


A Fine Invention

by PixelByPixel



Series: Death Takes a Holiday [9]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Advice for lovelorn (?) angels, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate uses for Kool-Aid, Angelic baked goods, Azrael finds her happy thought - eventually, Azrael steps it up, Azrael's backstory, Backstory, Bat'Leth, Chloe does not actually contribute to the delinquency of a minor, Chloe worries, Coffee, Dad speaks (sort of), Devil-demon moment, Ella makes a choice, Everybody knows but poor Dan, Favors, Flashback, Flying, Full Yoga Massacre 2016, Gen, Girls' Night, Hand gestures are misinterpreted, Is it still girl talk if it's between an angel and a demon?, Literal cinnamon rolls, Maze is contractually obligated to smirk at least once per appearance, Maze is evil - what else is new?, Maze requires more italics than any other character, Piano, Protective Azrael (mentioned), Protective Lucifer, Pudding, Pudding reference, Tiny plastic weaponry, Too much talk of butts for Chloe, brother-sister moment, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 17:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelByPixel/pseuds/PixelByPixel
Summary: After a brief absence from the precinct, Ella deals with her new knowledge. Azrael demonstrates her flying prowess.





	1. Bat'leths for everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> The title, like the previous story, comes from an Emily Dickinson poem. Sorry this took so long. Life interfered, and then I got an idea I had to add.

Ella Lopez had not always been a person who practiced her faith. Sure, she had believed as a child, had gone to Mass every Sunday and chapel at school, because that was what you did, if you were a member of her family. She drifted away from the church in high school, right around the time she started stealing cars. It took her abuelita's death to bring her back to the church, and now she had a comfortable relationship with the Big Guy; her faith was the foundation of her life.

That faith had taken a slightly different path recently, thanks to the revelation that her young friend Azrael was in fact an angel, older than humanity and until quite recently the Angel of Death. That this meant that Azrael's brother Lucifer was the Devil was something that Ella had taken in stride, and having the Archangel Michael show up in her living room was just a bonus.

She was pretty much fine with it all. Even when she had distanced herself from the church, some small part of her had still believed. She just, since she'd found out, had been having these  _jolts_ , like when you startled awake in the middle of the night and had to check that you were not, in fact, about to fall off the bed. Only she was awake, and the feeling was that realization that it was all real. Knowing that in her heart was one thing; having the proof of it sleeping on her couch was quite another.

"The feeling will pass," Linda had said, when she, Ella, and Chloe had gone out for drinks; the Tribe was sans demon because Maze was off hunting a bail jumper, something that suddenly felt way more appropriate. Ella almost felt sorry for the demon's targets.

"When?" Chloe had asked, her smile disbelieving.

"Still waiting," Linda had admitted.

It had been several days since all that went down, and Ella had been first preparing for and then presenting at a forensic conference. Her panel - Full Yoga Massacre 2016 - had gone over well, but the conference had kept her out of the precinct, and she hadn't seen Lucifer since before the revelation. So it was with a certain sense of anticipation that she went to work on Monday.

Of course, Lucifer was out tracking down a witness with Chloe when Ella arrived. She performed her usual Monday-morning tasks automatically, thinking about the weekend as she did.

* * *

Sitting down at Mass on Sunday, Ella was a little uncertain what church would feel like now that she had actual proof that someone was really out there, but it wasn't really that different. She stood and knelt and prayed the same as she'd done every Sunday, and she felt the same certainty, the same warmth. Sure, the knowledge that the small being standing, kneeling, and praying next to her was an actual angel was a little disconcerting, but Azrael, too, prayed with the same intensity as always, stopping to light a candle on her way out, as had become her habit.

That gave Ella a moment's pause, and she almost asked Azrael about it - what would an angel need to bring before God? - but something about the troubled look on girl's face as she prayed changed Ella's mind. Instead, she lit a candle in solidarity, and offered Azrael a smile.

God was, in fact, causing her some angst. Well, not God so much as Lucifer and Azrael's father, who seemed profoundly unlike her God. Before, she hadn't questioned Him; she knew who He was, like she knew what sunlight was. He _was_. Questioning that didn't even occur to her. She was still turning what she'd learned about Him over in her head; she hadn't come to any conclusions. Ordinarily, this was the sort of question that she would take to Father Joe, or even to her priest back in Detroit, but that was clearly out of the question. Chloe had just expressed her opinion of His dickishness, though Linda was a little more sympathetic. This was definitely going to take some time.

Azrael hadn't glowed during Mass, she hadn't pulled out her wings out, and in general had just seemed like a regular, if somewhat serious and rather devout, tween.

"How do you act so normal?" Ella asked in the fellowship hall after the service had ended.

Azrael shrugged, replying, "What else can I do? Telling them who I am, even if they believed me... it wouldn't go well, not with that many people."

Of course then Mary Grace's kids spotted her - well, small Michael spotted her, and then Sarah saw her brother ensconced in Azrael's lap and whined until Azrael took pity on her mother and cuddled the baby, too. She then spent quite some time settling the argument of who could sit in her lap, as sharing was clearly not an option, nor was Michael's idea of sitting on Azrael's shoulders while his sister sat in her lap. A few more of the smaller members of the congregation clustered around Azrael, and she nodded, listening with amusement to tales of Pokémon Go and preschool drama.

Ella glanced away from the trio and caught sight of Jack watching Azrael with a rather wistful expression. Seeing her eyes on him him, Jack looked embarrassed and then started a loud conversation about baseball with another boy. Ella tried not to smile too obviously, but this, like everything, was colored by her new knowledge. Maybe she would have a word with Jack in private and try to find some gentle way of dissuading him... yeah, that would work, because feelings were always logical.

Finally, Mary Grace took pity on Azrael, scooped up the baby, and herded away Michael, though not before giving Azrael a hug and saying something that made the girl smile and shake her head as she replied.

"What was that about?" Ella queried as Azrael joined her.

Looking amused, Azrael said, "She wants me to babysit one day this week. She said," she added, a glint in her eyes, "that it doesn't matter that I'm only eleven, because I obviously have an old soul."

"If she only knew," Ella murmured, grinning.

"Right?"

Smiling, Ella asked, "So do you have Lucifer's whatsit, mojo, only with little kids?"

Azrael lifted her eyes skyward, though the gesture was amused, rather than exasperated. "Dad forfend. No, I think it was more a case of them wanting to see what Michael's fuss was about. I did have kind of a Pied Piper moment, though."

"Are you going to babysit for Mary Grace?" Ella queried, as the two if them made their farewells and headed out of the church.

With a shrug, Azrael replied, "Probably. The kids are cute, and I'm kind of at loose ends. I just need to figure out how to keep her from paying me." At Ella's curious look, she added, "They need the money more than I do." Looking back at the church, she asked Ella, a hint of concern in her expression, "Was it different? Now that you know?"

Ella slung an arm around Azrael's shoulders. "I always knew, chickie."

* * *

Glancing out of her lab, she saw Lucifer pass and pulled off her headphones before darting to the doorway and calling his name.

The Devil drew himself up and turned, his expression polite but his shoulders rather tense. "Yes, Miss Lopez?"

Ella seized Lucifer's arm and pulled him down the hallway and into the break room. Sparing a glance for Maze, who had her boots up on the table as she ate a pudding cup (clearly labeled 'Dan'), the tech stared up at Lucifer. He returned her intense gaze with increasing bemusement. His expression was the same, though neither of them would ever admit it, as the one his brother Michael had worn upon considering Ella.

"Are you quite well?" Lucifer asked, when it was clear that Ella wasn't going to speak. "Looking for horns, perhaps?"

Ella grinned suddenly. "No, Rae told me you don't have them. I asked," she admitted sheepishly. "Dude, I'm fine. I just can't believe..." Shaking her head, she opened her arms and hugged him tightly, somewhat to his dismay.

Maze snorted as Lucifer extracted himself from Ella's embrace. When the tech started toward her, Maze said firmly, "If you try that with me, you lose a kidney."

Changing direction so that she ended up in the chair next to Maze, Ella observed, brightly, "Well, technically you really only need one kidney, but I think I'd rather not risk it."

"Good call," Maze replied.

"Hey, is that Dan's pudding?" Ella asked.

With a shrug, Maze replied, "I'm replacing it."

Lucifer asked dryly, "With what?" and Maze smirked. Turning back to Ella, he asked, "So has your new knowledge inspired any burning questions?"

"Yeah," Ella replied, settling back in her chair. "What's the deal with you and pitchforks? They're everywhere - I mean, people hear 'the Devil' and they think pitchforks, but that doesn't seem very... you."

" _Thank_  you," Lucifer said, aggrieved. "Pitchforks are a complete misrepresentation of the Lucifer brand. I have never -" Maze cleared her throat, and Lucifer continued, "All right,  _one_ time, but it was strictly for recreational purposes."

Ella looked askance at Maze, and the demon suggested, "Don't ask."

"Okay, then, not asking," Ella replied agreeably. "Rae answered the rest of my questions for now," she added to Lucifer, "but I'm sure more will come to me."

Lucifer finally came to sit at the table, took a breath, and then shook his head. He glanced briefly at Ella, then fidgeted with the contents of the table, rearranging the napkins and making a quiet huff of irritation.

Rolling her eyes, Maze informed Ella, "He wants to know how Tiny Death is doing, but he doesn't want to ask."

"Oh," Ella replied, smiling despite herself. "Tiny Death - that's funny. She's good, I guess. She's taken over the cooking, which I can't say I mind. Oh, and she wanted me to tell you what happened last week. I would have told you earlier, but what with the conference, I didn't see you." Seeing Lucifer's nod, she continued, "It must have been about three in the morning, the night that Rae came to stay with me, and I heard voices in the living room."

"Wait," Maze interrupted, looking far too pleased. "You've got TD sleeping on your  _couch_? Ha."

"She said I wouldn't go to Hell," Ella replied, amused, though not without a look of confirmation to Lucifer.

"Certainly not," Lucifer agreed. "Please continue, Miss Lopez. Voices in the living room..."

Ella nodded and continued, "So I listened a minute, and it was Rae and a guy I didn't recognize, and he sounded a little annoyed. So I grabbed my bat'leth -" Here there was another pause for Ella to explain in detail just what a bat'leth was, and then to text Maze a few links to bat'leth craftspeople. Finally, with Lucifer all but twitching in impatient irritation, Ella continued, "- so I asked what was going on, all -" Here she sprang to her feet and brandished an imaginary bat'leth, somewhat to Lucifer's amusement. Maze, by this point, had stopped paying attention, her attention on tracking down a bat'leth of her own.

"Well? Who was it?" Lucifer queried, as Ella paused.

"Actually," Ella replied, moving back to her seat, "Your brother Michael."

Maze looked up from her phone, brows lifting. Lucifer recapped, tone rich with delighted incredulity, "You threatened my brother Michael, leader of the Angelic Hosts, with a... a fake television weapon? Sorry, replica," he corrected, at Ella's murmur. The tech nodded, and Lucifer looked utterly thrilled. "That is... that's just... I don't suppose you got a photo? I'd love to have _that_  on the Insta."

"Sorry, no," Ella replied, as Maze took her feet off the table; the demon was watching with profound amusement. "I wasn't entirely awake."

"Pity," Lucifer replied, though he still looked more entertained than anything else. He gave Ella a long look, then said, "You appear to be in the proper number of parts, so I assume he wasn't offended."

Looking between the former Lord of Hell and his demon, Ella said, "He was actually... kind of nice."

"Oh, no," Lucifer protested. "Don't tell me you actually _liked_ that tool." Ella looked a little uncomfortable, and Lucifer accused, "You did! Miss Lopez,  _really_. I thought you had better judgment than that."

"But he healed Rae," Ella explained, enthusiasm bubbling up despite herself. "I mean, that cut on her neck just disappeared. It was amazing!"

"Yeah, he can heal minor injuries, but he's still a jerk," Maze observed, getting to her feet and leaving the empty pudding cup on the table, white labeled wrapper waving like a flag of challenge.

"But he seemed really nice," Ella protested. "And, well, he's an angel. That means he's good, right?"

Expression going stiff, Lucifer countered, "So I, as the Devil, must be evil?"

Ella faltered, looking thoughtful and maybe a little troubled. "Well, no. I mean, you're an amazing guy, Lucifer, and Maze... you're just awesome."

Maze looked smugly pleased at that; she caught Lucifer's eye, gestured to herself and mouthed  _Awesome_  before slipping out of the room. He huffed in exasperation, shaking his head.

"Sorry," Ella continued, "I guess it makes sense that, if you guys rock - which you totally do - then angels aren't necessarily good. Huh." She frowned thoughtfully, adding, "This has been an interesting couple of days, spiritually."

"Try talking with Linda," Lucifer offered, with a wry smile. "She's good with existential crises."

Nodding, Ella agreed, "We got drinks the other night with Chloe, and tonight we're going to - hey, you should come!"

Shaking his head, Lucifer demurred, "I wouldn't want to intrude on girls' night."

"Dude," Ella chided. "You totally would." Lucifer smirked in acknowledgment, then Ella added, "Besides, it's not that. Trixie has, I guess, been nagging Rae to let her see her fly." She paused a moment, frowning over her pronouns, then added, "You know what I mean. And I want to see, too - I mean, _flying_. And Rae has some experiment she wants to try with Linda - nothing bad," she clarified, as Lucifer's brows rose sharply.

"I'm sure it's not," Lucifer agreed. "My sister just isn't really the experimental type, I thought."

Ella shrugged agreeably, but continued, "Chloe knows a place where there aren't likely to be any people, so Rae's going to show us tonight. You'll come, right?" When Lucifer hesitated, she encouraged, "I can tell you miss her, and she definitely misses you, too. I mean, she was singing moody songs while she was doing dishes last night, when she thought I wasn't listening, and she's generally been a little mopy."

Lucifer frowned a little. "That's not good. Has she been drinking?" He considered Ella's startled headshake, then advised, "I don't think she's figured out how much she can drink in that body, fair warning."

Nodding again, Ella said, "I'll keep an eye out - but will you come tonight? I think it would help."

Brows lowering, Lucifer mused, "I haven't seen her since she left, just texted. Well... text me the details. I'll think about it." And he would, though he had a more pressing issue to deal with first.

"No problem," Ella agreed, smiling. "Now, I'd better get back to it. I'm in the middle of analyzing this..."

But Lucifer wasn't listening. He nodded a farewell to Ella, then made his way into the men's room and locked the door behind him. He folded his hands and closed his eyes. He did not, it may be noted, bow his head.

It took several exasperating minutes, and a few attempts, but Michael finally appeared with a soft whoosh of air. "Charming," he murmured dryly, looking around the room.

"Wasn't sure you'd answer." Lucifer leaned casually with his back against the sink. "I hear you had an interesting encounter last week," he drawled. "Minor miracle in front of a human. Thought that was against the rules, hm?"

"She already knew about us, thanks to Azrael," Michael retorted. "It's not like a little healing was going to make a difference, and Azrael asked me to help."

"Right," Lucifer replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Because you're always so helpful, Mikey."

Michael brought his palm against the wall, the slapping sound echoing in the tiled room. "Michael," he corrected through clenched teeth. "And I  _am_  helpful. Maybe you forgot that I'm the one who convinced our father to return Azrael's wings? Helpful, yes. Just not to you."

"Rude," Lucifer scoffed.

"Devil," Michael replied, with a gesture toward Lucifer.

Lucifer dismissed his brother's words with a wave of his hand, saying, "Your help in that instance was manipulative; don't think I don't know that. And what was the point of your little display for Miss Lopez, hmm? Showing off? Careful,  _dear_  brother," he taunted. "Pride is one of mine. You wouldn't want to find yourself stuck here."

"I won't," Michael retorted, though Lucifer, watching intently despite his pose of studied indifference, caught his brother's flash of concern. "Father wouldn't..."

Lucifer idly considered his fingernails, absently running his thumb over the other four nails. "I thought that, once." He turned his gaze to his brother, opening his hand as if to say,  _Look at me now._

"He wouldn't," Michael repeated, though with less certainly. "Besides," he added, with a hint of desperation, "The human said she was a fan. I had to do  _something_."

"Miss Lopez," Lucifer said, with a slight emphasis on her name, "is a good person, Michael. She's not to be used as a pawn in one of your games - or of Dad's games." Brows lifting, he queried, "Has dear old Dad spoken with you since that incident? No?" He tsked softly. "Not a good sign. Best watch yourself."

Looking a little disconcerted, Michael said, "Azrael asked for my help and I gave it, Lucifer. That's all there was to it." Shaking his head, he added, "I don't have to listen to this."

Michael disappeared in a soft pop of air, and Lucifer smiled. "It always was easy to ruffle your feathers," he murmured, with a smug smile aimed skyward. Still, he felt reasonably sure that Ella wasn't being targeted; Michael had seemed too flustered for his words to be false. Whistling, Lucifer unlocked the door and set off in search of his detective.

* * *

Approaching her lab, Ella saw the dark-haired man in her space. He wasn't very tall, though he was taller than Ella. (Realistically, it didn't take much to be taller than Ella.) Moving to her doorway but not stepping through, Ella informed him, "You're not supposed to be here."

The man turned. He smiled warmly, and Ella reflexively returned the smile. "Hi, Ella," he said. "I'm Josh. Rae's brother - well, and Lucifer's. And I hear you met Michael, too."

"I... yes." Ella stepped into her lab and closed the door, eyes wide as she considered Josh.

Leaning against the lab bench, Josh said, "I wanted to come by and thank you for taking in Rae. She's been having a tough time and I'm sure it's really helping her to be with a friend, instead of alone in a hotel."

"You're welcome," Ella managed. She grinned then, adding, "And thanks right back at you for, you know, dying for humanity's sins." She paused a moment, then added, "You don't need to thank me, though. I like it that Rae is staying with me. She's great company."

"No need to thank me, either," Josh replied agreeably. With a smile, he added, "She is good company, isn't she? We spent Christmas together and really had a good day."

Suddenly curious, Ella asked, "So do you guys... hang out? Do Jesus and the Angel of Death sing karaoke together, that sort of thing? What did  _you_  do on Christmas?"

Josh laughed, clearly entertained by the mental image, and shook his head. "No karaoke, though maybe someday. As for Christmas, we just relaxed. It's not really that big a day for me. We do try to spend time together, but, honestly, she worked most of the time before she came here."

With a glance at the case files on her lab bench, Ella nodded, sobering. "Lots of people die."

"Lots of people die," Josh echoed softly. "I'm glad she's getting this break, though. The job's a tough one, and she was getting a little... tightly wound."

Ella nodded, though she regarded Josh thoughtfully. "But I thought she was here to do something for... for your dad."

"She is," Josh agreed easily. "But that's not really going to take effort on her part. She'll do it naturally."

Ella hesitated, then offered, "Well, yeah, but she seems kind of worried about it."

Shaking his head, Josh replied reassuringly, "She shouldn't be. Rae can be a little high-strung sometimes, but all this will work out in the end."

"For who?" Ella asked quietly. Seeing Josh's puzzled expression, she clarified, "Work out well for who?"

Josh nodded, with a soft ah of understanding. I can't really go into the details," he admitted. "But Rae should have faith. It'll be okay."

Ella was hardly one to question the need for faith, especially when speaking to this of all beings. Still, a small part of her, remembering Azrael's troubled expression as she prayed, wanted to do just that. "I'll tell her that," she said slowly.

"Thanks," Josh replied, and Ella warmed at his smile despite herself. "Maybe it'll help coming from you." Suddenly the picture of an amused younger brother, Josh proclaimed, "Going up against Michael with the bat'leth, that was great. He really wants one, now."

"I can hook him up," Ella replied, though she had siblings enough to recognize a diversionary tactic when she saw one. Remembering Maze's similar request, she had a sudden mental image of the demon and the archangel squaring off with their bat'leths, and wasn't sure whether to be amused or concerned. Still, she added, "I've got some links I can text him."

Shaking his head, Josh said, "Michael doesn't have a phone, but you can send them to me and I'll take care of it. Belated Christmas gift, that sort of thing. Let me see your phone?"

Ella handed over her phone, and Josh put a number into her contacts and returned the phone. "Thanks," she said. "So now I have a direct line to, well, you?"

With a smile, Josh explained, "It only works when I'm on this plane. We have a different network in the Silver City." Ella looked hard at him, trying to find some hint that he was kidding, but Josh seemed quite sincere, adding, "It simplified Rae's life a lot when we went digital. Ask her sometime about the SIN - the soul identification number. I'm pretty sure she came up with that acronym after she'd been visiting Lucifer."

"You're kidding," Ella said, laughing. She glanced down at her phone to pass on the links about bat'leths, and saw that Josh had put his contact info under the name 'Josh' and that he'd added an angel emoji - like she'd forget! Out of nowhere, she had another of those  _jolts_ : the reality of who she was talking to and what they were discussing struck her, and she leaned hard on the lab bench.

Josh, brows lowering in concern, scooted a stool closer to her, and Ella eased to a seat, with a murmur of thanks. "I'm sorry," Josh said, his expression regretful. "Was that too much knowledge? My family, we've put a lot on you."

"I'm glad, though," Ella replied. Seeing his puzzlement, she added, "Lucifer and Rae and Maze are my friends. Now that I know the whole story, I can be there for them. I mean, that's what friends do, right?"

"Right." Josh gently squeezed her shoulder, smiling, and Ella suddenly felt suffused with warmth and well-being. Seeing some of that reflected in her expression, Josh removed his hand, abashed. "Sorry. I don't usually..."

Josh drew himself upright, a gesture that tickled the back of Ella's mind. It took her a moment to realize that Lucifer had made that exact gesture when she'd first seen him that day. She decided to keep that to herself. "It's fine," she said, still not entirely sure what had happened.

Josh smiled, though not without a rueful shake of his head. "I'd better let you get back to work." Ella nodded, and Josh, after lifting his hand in farewell, stepped out of the lab.

Ella watched him leave, then exhaled a long, quiet breath. "Wow," she murmured. She stepped to look out the door; he had disappeared. "So saying the Nicene Creed might feel a little different, now." She moved back to her microscope, then, and pulled on her headphones. Existential crisis or no, there was still work to do.


	2. The Metaphor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of the gang eventually make their way to Azrael's flight demonstration; Lucifer and Azrael get a chance to chat afterward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of media in this one. The hymn Azrael sings was adapted from the prayer of St. Francis, which does not seem to have been written by St. Francis. (Broadway fans will recognize it from Come From Away.) The NIN song is Hurt, but I do think Johnny Cash did it better. (Sorry.) The book is Cry, Heart, But Never Break by Glenn Ringtved, and I may have made an actual squeeing noise when I saw it in the library. (Fortunately, nobody else was there.) Both the chapter title and the first thing Lucifer says to Azrael are taken from Sarah Kay's poem Useless Bay, which is lovely. I recommend watching her perform it; check YouTube. I had Azrael's entrance envisioned before I heard the poem, though!

Azrael was already in the kitchen when Ella returned home, and Ella had the thought that the apartment smelled heavenly before realizing that she now had a source to find out what exactly that really meant - well, several sources, really. This particular heavenly aroma involved chocolate and Ella wondered if there was chocolate in Heaven. Could it be Heaven if there was no chocolate?

Lately, her philosophical musings had become extremely specific.

Azrael was singing as she frosted cupcakes, one hand applying deft pressure to the piping bag.

 _Make me a channel of your peace_  
_Where there's despair in life let me bring hope_  
_Where there is darkness, only light_  
_And where there's sadness ever joy_

Listening, Ella recognized the hymn the choir had sung the first week Azrael had come to St. Brennan's. The girl had a sweet voice, though it didn't hold the power of her brother's. Still, the notes were true, and the song itself was more cheerful than the Nine Inch Nails song she'd been singing before - or maybe it was the Johnny Cash cover, which Ella would never tell her brothers that she preferred.

The girl paused in her song to give the piping bag a twist, then picked up partway through the next line,

 _Grant that I may never seek_  
_So much to be consoled as to console_  
_To be understood as to understand_  
_To be loved as to love with all my soul_

"Hey," Ella called from the doorway, and Azrael drew herself up sharply, then turned, with a quick smile. "That was nice." She hesitated, unsure whether to voice what she was thinking, then offered gently, remembering Azrael's troubled face as she'd prayed after Mass, "It's okay to want something for yourself."

Azrael silently turned that thought over in her head as she finished the final cupcake. "Yeah," she said finally. "It is, isn't it? Before I came to stay with Lucifer that... that never would have occurred to me. I pretty much lived the job." She smiled over at Ella as she began to pack up the cupcakes. "I do want things for myself," she added, her voice reflective. "I want to be restored to my powers, my body. When I've accomplished my task, I want to know that I haven't hurt my brother." Her smile widened a little and went sheepish. "I want a motorcycle."

"Those are good things to want," Ella agreed brightly. "I mean, maybe I'd go with a muscle car over a motorcycle, but still. And your brother, I think he gets that you don't want to hurt him."

Azrael nodded, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "I hope so." She set aside a pair of cupcakes, tucking them into a smaller box. "I do like that song, and I get the point it's trying to make, but it's a little extreme. I mean,  _never_  to be consoled? If everyone did that, who exactly would we be consoling?"

Nodding Ella agreed, "Right? We all do a little of both. If we were always one way and not the other, it'd be unbalanced."

"It reminds me of this book Trixie showed me the last time I was over there," Azrael said slowly. "It was a kids' book, lovely pictures. These children, their grandmother was dying upstairs, and they didn't want Death to take her. So they kept him - of course,  _him_  - distracted by giving him coffee. That part," she added, with a grin, "Would have totally work, by the way, if people could have seen me." She visibly refocused herself away from the coffee and continued with the story, "They thought that Death could only take people at night, but he stopped drinking coffee just before dawn. They asked him not to take their grandmother, and he told this lovely story about how sorrow and grief couldn't exist without delight and joy, because he wanted them to understand that death is a part of life. And he didn't want them to be scared; I mean, he left his scythe outside when he went into the house. "

"He was compassionate," Ella offered, and Azrael nodded, her eyes lighting in approval.

"Exactly," the girl agreed. "That doesn't happen often, when humans talk about m- about Death. There's that Coleridge poem, and some other things, but usually it's all doom and gloom. But this book... Trixie was reading it to me, and a good thing she didn't ask me to read it. I never would have made it through the part..." She closed her eyes and quoted, " _Some people say Death's heart is as dead and black as a piece of coal, but that is not true. Beneath his inky cloak, Death's heart is as red as the most beautiful sunset and beats with a great love of life._ " She opened her eyes, her gaze distant.

"Of course it is, chickie," Ella said, coming into the kitchen. "Anybody who knows you knows that. Bet that's why Trixie showed you the book. But tell the truth -" Azrael looked over, curiously attentive, and Ella asked, too-seriously, "Do you really have a scythe?"

Azrael stared at the tech in surprise, then shook her head, her expression lightening with amusement. "Okay, have you ever held a scythe? I mean a real one, not those plastic ones you get at the Halloween store." Ella shook her head, and Azrael elaborated, "They're big, and heavy - well, not that heavy matters to an angel - and awkward. Despite that, I did try carrying one around for a little while - I thought it was funny, and they're actually kind of fun to swing. And it annoyed Michael, which was a bonus. Not that I ever, you know, poked him with it or anything," Azrael hastened to add, though the glint in her eyes suggested that Michael might tell a different story.

"Of course not," Ella agreed, chuckling. "So it's the same as Lucifer's pitchfork," Ella concluded, amused. "More of a story than anything else. A symbol."

Azrael nodded, noticing, though not commenting on, the way Ella's attention had sharpened just a little more at the mention of Michael. "Humans think poorly of us - though much more of him, unjustly - we both have our farm implements... no wonder we get along so well." She ducked her head. "Thanks, Ella. I was getting a little..." She looked up with a small headshake, not sure how to express it, then concluded, "A little too in my head. Guess I'm on edge about tonight."

Ella smiled and replied, "No need for thanks. But I'm here for you, Rae - always. And you'll be great tonight! Don't worry about it."

Azrael's answering smile was sweet and unfeigned. "Thank you. I know that, and if I ever think to doubt it, I'll just remember you facing down Michael with the bat'leth," she added, eyes glinting with just a hint of teasing.

Laughing, Ella replied, "I'm never going to live that down, am I? Your brother Josh stopped by the precinct today, and he mentioned it, even."

Azrael shook her head as Ella spoke, amused, but then sobered a little at the mention of her younger brother. "Did he ask you to try to convince me to go back with Lucifer? I won't. I've made my decision, and he should respect it. And he shouldn't be harassing you, that's not -"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Ella said, holding up her hands in a calming gesture. "He wasn't harassing me, and he didn't ask me to do anything. Matter of fact, he thanked me for letting you crash here, not that thanks are necessary."

"Oh." Azrael nodded, her expression sheepish. "Sorry. It's just that I know he thinks I should still be at Lux, and..." Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "Sorry," she repeated. "Are you okay?" she asked, then, her dark eyes concerned. "I mean, meeting..."

"My Lord and Savior?" Ella supplied, her brows lifting. Azrael shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable, and Ella replied, "I'm okay, pretty much. I mean, it's weird. I didn't expect him to... to show up at work and give me his cell phone number." Catching Azrael's startled expression, she explained, "I texted him some links to people who make bat'leths. For Michael."

Azrael pursed her lips. "You're getting a lot thrown at you," she said, looking troubled. "Are you sure...?"

Squaring her shoulders, Ella assured Azrael, "It's fine. I'm fine." Brows furrowing, she added, "I got a little... overwhelmed, and J-Josh put his hand on me and I felt better." She looked at Azrael, not sure how to proceed.

"Huh," Azrael said slowly. "Kind of a... laying on of hands? Don't use that phrase around Lucifer," she hastened to add, with a quick smile. "He'd turn it into porn, and you really don't want to go there."

"Not really," Ella agreed, though she was trying not to laugh at the thought.

Looking just a little disconcerted, Azrael said, "Josh does that sometimes. If it bugs you, let him know, and he'll knock it off. Or I can," she offered. "Again, no burning in Hell for asking the Son of God not to get handsy."

"He wasn't handsy," Ella protested, that laugh finally escaping. "He was being nice. It's fine. It felt good. And you don't have to keep warning me about Hell," she added, with a grin. "I think I've got a good handle on it."

"You do," Azrael agreed, inclining her head. "But these are kind of weird circumstances..." She shook her head, then, suggesting, "We should go meet the others, right? I mean, isn't it a ways out of the city?"

"We should go," Ella agreed, letting the topic drop. Seeing Azrael pick up the box of cupcakes, she asked, "Snacks for the trip?"

"What? Oh - no. Or, well, they can be, I guess, but I'd intended them as a bribe of sorts." Azrael pulled on her jacket - the one with the wings on the back - and added, "Trixie wants me to take her flying. I know she does. And it's just... I'm not strong enough, not in this body, and I don't want to risk anything happening to her. I think she understands, but I thought a little chocolate consolation might help."

"Chocolate Consolation," Ella announced broadly. "That's the name of my new band!"

"What happened to Completely Irrelevant Baby?" Azrael queried, amused.

"Oh, we broke up. Creative differences. Hey, nice jacket!"

"Thanks," Azrael replied. A glint in her eyes, she added, "Michael gave it to me."

Ella didn't say anything as the pair left the apartment, but she smiled.

* * *

Lucifer stood in the doorway to the room that had been his sister's. He'd been avoiding it, and hadn't realized that she'd cleared out the last of her belongings when he'd been away from the penthouse. He sighed, and a familiar voice came from the entrance to the hallway.

"I knew you would do this." Maze stood in the hallway, arms folded over her chest. "I saw that look when Ella mentioned your sister. Come on. Let's go downstairs, have some fun. Maybe bring the party back here. It's early, but I'm sure we can still raise some Hell."

Lucifer shook his head, though not without a dry smile for his demon's turn of phrase. "Not tonight."

Irritated, Maze replied, "You're sulking. I can't believe you're sulking over this."

"The Devil doesn't sulk," Lucifer replied, one must admit, sulkily.

"Lucifer, this is a  _good thing_ ," Maze insisted. Ignoring Lucifer's dubious expression, she continued, "She's standing up to your dad. I mean, maybe she took it a little far with letting Ella in on everything, but she's being her own angel."

Lucifer leaned against the doorjamb. "Yes," he allowed. "She is, and I suppose that's good."

" _Suppose_?" Maze made a wry face. "How long's it been since any of those rejects you call siblings took your side for a change?"

"Millenia," Lucifer admitted. "And it was Rae, and she was  _punished_  for it, Maze. Part of this - all right, this sulking is that I miss her, yes, but part of it is that I'm concerned for her. At some point she will have to answer to our father and I don't want her to suffer on my account." He finally turned to face Maze, his dark eyes troubled.

The demon wasn't impressed. "Even though she looks like a little human, she's grown, and she's dealt with your dad a lot more than you have over all those years. She knows what she's getting herself into. Don't try to unmake her decision."

"I haven't," Lucifer retorted. "And I won't."

"Good," Maze said tersely. She smiled. "Now let's go party. You wouldn't believe the ass on this guy I saw on my way through Lux." She turned to go back through the penthouse, but Lucifer didn't follow. She sighed, a drawn-out, exasperated sound. " _What_?"

"Miss Lopez informed me that my sister was doing a flight demonstration tonight. She thinks I should attend." Lucifer spoke stiffly, and Maze could tell that he wanted to go. If she was being honest with herself, Maze wouldn't mind seeing it, too. 

The demon echoed, tone disbelieving, "A flight demonstration? Is your sister  _trying_  to piss off Daddy?" Still, she smiled, after a quick glance to be sure that Lucifer wasn't looking.

"I believe the Detective found an out-of-the-way spot for the endeavor, so they shouldn't be observed." Brows furrowing, he added, "Miss Lopez said that Rae's planning an experiment with Doctor Linda."

"What?" The smile dropped from Maze's face. "Where is this happening?"

Lucifer looked over to Maze, brows lifting. "Surely you don't think that Azrael would hurt Doctor Linda."

Maze hesitated. Probably not, but she didn't want to admit that. "I don't want to risk it. Not with Linda. Let's go." When Lucifer didn't move, she urged, " _Lucifer_ ," and he nodded.

"Fine, but I'm driving." He took one more look into the room that had been his sister's, then closed the door firmly.

* * *

 Lucifer drove fast, of course, but was still not going quickly enough for Maze. By the time he reached the out-of-the-way spot where the group had gathered, she was all but frantic, her mind having come up with far too many scenarios. Chloe wouldn't let anything bad happen, she knew, and Lucifer's sister wasn't so stupid as to try something, not with the first of Mazikeen's friends who wasn't an elementary schooler. Still, she didn't bother to wait for Lucifer to bring the car to a stop, but instead vaulted over the door and rushed to the therapist's side.

"What's the matter?" Linda asked, startled by the demon's manner.

"Where is she?" Maze demanded. "How did she experiment on you?"

Trixie, all but beside herself with excitement (and chocolate cupcakes; Chloe vowed to have a word later with Azrael about moderation) bounced over to the demon. "Maze! Did you come to see Rae fly? She's going up there so she can get a good start." The child indicated a nearby hill. "You can't see her because she's behind those trees."

"I'm fine," Linda reassured, resting a hand lightly on the demon's arm. "She just wanted to see if I could see her wings while she -" She hesitated, not sure how to explain it.

"While she had her cloaking device on," Ella supplied, with a grin. "It was weird - everybody but Linda could see, I guess because we'd already seen them."

"Oh." Maze looked back toward the car, making a wry face as Lucifer approached, his expression a little smug.

"See? I told you she wouldn't - ugh, child, is this really necessary?"

For, of course, Trixie had thrown herself at him, with a delighted cry of, "Lucifer!"

Trixie just grinned up at him, then dashed back to her mother, leaving Lucifer to lament the chocolate smudges on his suit.

At that moment, Azrael came into view. She stood at the top of the hill - not a mountain by any stretch of the imagination, but high enough to give her a decent start - and unfurled her wings. The sun had nearly set, and the warm light turned her pale gray wings to rose gold.

Lucifer, watching her, exhaled a barely audible sigh, quiet enough that no one should've heard. After a moment, he felt warm fingers curl around his wrist, and looked down to see Maze.

The demon didn't say anything, but she didn't need to, not after all these years. They'd already said the words, and neither of them wanted to go back to those awful moments on the beach when she'd cut off his wings, full of blood and pain, sweating and swearing. Lucifer felt a pang in his back, and almost, almost he could feel the weight of his wings, the breeze in his feathers, the anticipation of a flight.

That hadn't happened in a while.

"Why isn't she flying?" Trixie asked, bouncing in place with impatience. "Doesn't she have her happy thought?"

Chloe murmured, "I don't think it works that way for angels, Monkey," and Trixie nodded, her eyes on her friend.

Ella didn't say anything, but looked almost as excited as the child, while Linda and Chloe watched with a little more concern.

Lucifer turned his gaze to his sister, saw the tightness of her mouth and the way one hand clenched her jacket cuff. Had she flown since the accident? Likely not. When would she have had the chance, worried as she was about inadvertently revealing herself? Suddenly he remembered how scared she had looked when Josh had brought her back to the penthouse, the death grip she'd had on their brother.

Azrael was overthinking the situation; it was obvious, at least to him. She couldn't take that last step and was, of course, wrapping it up as another thing gone wrong, another failure. He stepped closer, not that the small distance made a difference, and felt Maze's fingers slip from his wrist.

Azrael had to do this, he knew. Not getting back on the horse after a fall, well, he could speak to that, and the longer she waited, the worse it would be. Pitching his voice to carry to her, he called, "This is not a metaphor!"

Azrael startled, though not enough to lose her balance and slip; Lucifer would have seen the irony, but he never would have heard the end of it. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes, squinting down at the group. Her gaze landing on Lucifer, she stood a little straighter, a certain tension leaving her body.

"Come on, Rae," Ella urged softly. Lucifer doubted she even realized that she was speaking. "You've got this."

Azrael hadn't taken her eyes off Lucifer. He extended a hand toward her:  _Come on._

In one sharp, impatient gesture, Azrael pulled out her ponytail holder, releasing her hair to fly behind her in a sudden gust of wind. She rocked back and forth in place for a step, then ran off the edge of the hill.

She flew. She flew, and Lucifer had to admit that she was glorious. The last time he'd seen her fly, he'd still been living in the Silver City, and she'd been good then. Now, even with the restrictions of her mortal body, she amazed him with her skill. She rode the air currents expertly for a time, clearly reveling in her flight. Eventually, she turned on a wingtip, then zoomed low over the watchers' heads. The wind of her passage ruffled their hair, to Trixie and Ella's audible delight.

"Show-off," Maze shouted, though Azrael likely didn't hear. Lucifer remembered how the wind would sing in his ears, deafening him to all else. That had been a mercy, especially during those last days in the Silver City.

Lucifer turned his gaze to his friends, though they were all watching his sister. Maze had moved back to stand next to Linda, who was full of wonder as her gaze followed Azrael. Trixie was bouncing in place, clapping and chanting, "Go, Rae! Go, Rae!" Chloe, standing behind her, rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders, her expression fond. Ella turned in place as Azrael passed, murmuring under her breath about drag and lift and Bernoulli's principle. Then Azrael must have performed some particularly spectacular feat, as the tech let out a delighted whoop, echoed after a moment by Trixie.

The group looked toward Lucifer, and he peered back, puzzled. "Turn around," Chloe said urgently, and he whirled in place barely in time to see Azrael land just in front of him. Momentum - or perhaps not - carried her the last few steps to him, and she hit him hard, even knocking him back a step. Her arms locked behind his back and her wings enveloped them both; after a moment, he hugged her in return, running a hand lightly over her back.

Her feathers brushed lightly against his cheek, and he closed his eyes for just a moment. "You need to work on your landings," he murmured into her hair, and he felt her shake with silent laughter, or perhaps not laughter. She looked up at him, then, and he could see that she, not unlike himself, was caught in that space between laughter and tears. "Well done, little sister," he whispered, and she hugged him a little more tightly.

"It was an okay flight," Azrael agreed modestly, easing back after a moment, her feathers lightly brushing him as she stepped away. "A little showy, maybe, but that was kind of the point."

Lucifer rested his hands on her shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "Wasn't talking about the flight." He smiled, then, tipping his head toward the others. "Go on," he teased. "Go greet your adoring fans. We'll talk later."

Azrael ducked her head, then smiled up at her brother. "I'd like that." She turned, then recoiled when she encountered Maze directly in her path, her wings mantling. She shot an accusatory look over her shoulder, her wing flicking so she could see her brother, and muttered, "You could have warned me."

"Where's the fun in that?" Lucifer replied cheerfully.

Azrael rolled her eyes and turned back to the demon, asking warily, "Need something, Mazikeen?"

The demon folded her arms over her chest and asked, "You planning on letting anyone else in on the secret?"

"No." Azrael shrugged, then, admitting, "Though none of my revelations were actually planned. With Trixie and Chloe, it was unintentional, and it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing with Ella." She hesitated, then offered, "Sometimes things happen for a reason."

Maze gave the angel a level look, then drawled, "And sometimes the reason is that you're stupid and make bad choices."

Azrael's face went carefully blank, but her wings gave her away: they flared wide, and the conversation from the other group suddenly went quiet, all eyes turning to the demon and the angel.

Maze continued, unfazed, "Next time you feel like flipping Daddy the bird, find some way that doesn't involve me."

"I'm not flipping -" Azrael began, her wings settling against her back, but Maze snorted, not letting her finish.

"Sure, you're not, TD," the demon scoffed. "You keep telling yourself that."

Azrael, after a brief silence, said stiffly, "I will endeavor not to involve you further in any... bird-flipping, Mazikeen."

"Good." Maze paused, then added, "I got us some mat time tomorrow at ten." Seeing Azrael's hesitancy, she unbent enough to say, "No knives."

Azrael nodded after a moment, taking it for the peace offering it was - trust Maze to use violence as an olive branch. "I'll be there," she said seriously, before moving past the demon to greet the others, who had been waiting with varying degrees of patience.

Maze, rather than joining the crowd, moved to Lucifer's side. She didn't speak, though her brows lifted in inquiry.

"I don't miss them," Lucifer said, replying to the question she hadn't asked, though his gaze was still on his sister's wings.

"Of course not," Maze replied blandly.

"Don't you worry that you'll push her too far, one of these days?" Lucifer queried, though his tone was curious rather than judgmental.

Maze shrugged. "I'm not scared of Tiny Death."

"Nor should you be," Lucifer agreed easily. "But what happens when she's been restored and isn't Fun Size anymore?"

Maze's eyes lit, and Lucifer anticipated further nicknames for his sister, though the demon asserted, "I'm not scared of that Death, either. I could take her just fine, back in Hell."

"Right," Lucifer agreed. "Back in Hell. You've only ever encountered her as the actual Angel of Death back in my domain, where she refused to bring her Blade and generally kept a low profile out of courtesy to me. Just... consider that she's not a good enemy to have."

Maze made a quiet, derisive sound and didn't reply, though her assessing gaze followed the angel.

Trixie, finally released by her mother, dashed to meet Azrael. She seized her friend's hands and whirled her in a wild circle, ring-around-the-rosie on steroids. "That was so cool!" she exclaimed. "It looked fun! Was it fun?"

"Yes, yes," Azrael replied, laughing, "But stop spinning, please, before I throw up."

"You know," Chloe observed dryly as Trixie subsided, though the little girl still maintained her grip on one of Azrael's hands, swinging it back and forth, "She probably wouldn't be doing that if she hadn't had * _four cupcakes_ * in the car."

Azrael just asked innocently, "Aren't you dropping her off at Dan's tonight?" She smiled thinly as she heard a sound of approval from Maze's general direction.

Still swinging Azrael's hand, Trixie asked, "You can fly like you did with no problem, but a little spinning makes you sick?"

Azrael nodded, with a small shrug. "When I'm flying, I'm in control. That makes a big difference, being able to direct where I'm going."

"Now, that's a metaphor," Lucifer quipped.

Azrael shot her brother an understanding look, her answering smile a little wry. "Tell me about it."

"Okay," Ella said, finally breaking away from her discussion with Linda to approach Azrael. "That was  _amazing_ , chickie. I almost took my phone out to get some video for later, but then I thought, yeah, maybe not."

"Definitely not," Azrael agreed. "Showing is one thing, but video proof... no. Not a good idea."

"People would think it was fake," Trixie observed brightly. "Special effects."

Azrael shook her head. "I'm still not willing to risk it."

"Anyway," Ella continued, "That was totally amazeballs, and any time you want to do that again, let me know. I'd love to see how fast you can go." She grinned at Trixie's enthusiastic nodding, and added, with a nod toward Linda, "We decided that you're going to ride back with Lucifer and Maze is going to come with us, so you guys can catch up."

Brows lifting, Azrael looked over to Lucifer and Maze, but the demon seemed on board with the change. "But I thought..."

"Want to see Dad laugh?" Lucifer suggested dryly. "Make a plan." Azrael chuckled, and Lucifer waved her over. "Come on, little sister. They've already decided the course of your life, at least for the next hour or so. Might as well roll with it."

"At least I can guess at their motivation." Azrael made her farewells, scooped up her bag, and moved to stand by the Corvette. She gave her wings one final stretch, then tucked them away before climbing into the car. She pulled on her seat belt, sliding the buckle home with a click.

Lucifer looked over at the sound as he started down the road. "Questioning my driving abilities?"

Azrael shrugged, though not without a quick smile. "I was more likely to end up at a car accident when the humans weren't wearing their seat belts. It's nothing on you. I just don't necessarily trust the other drivers."

Lucifer nodded agreeably, though he revved the car and gunned down the road. Azrael didn't bother to hold back her laughter; she did bundle her hair back into a ponytail, keeping it out of her face.

They rode in silence for the first several minutes. "So," Lucifer said finally. "You looked good up there."

"Thanks," Azrael replied, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the car. "It felt good - really good." She was quiet a moment, then added, "If not for you, I'd probably still be standing on that hill. So thanks for that."

"Had a bit of a moment up there?" Lucifer queried lightly.

Azrael nodded, then, upon realizing that her brother was actually watching the road and not her, made a wry face and said, "Yes. I remembered... what happened out east. Falling." She paused, then added grimly, "Landing. I'd forgotten, blocked it out, I guess. And then, standing there, I remembered, and I just couldn't move."

"And then you got yourself all twisted up," Lucifer concluded, with a quick, knowing look.

Azrael nodded. "All of them watching," she agreed. "Trixie. She's been wanting this since she saw my wings, and I really didn't want to let her down. So thanks." She hesitated, then asked a question she'd been avoiding for millenia. "Do you remember? When you..." She couldn't finish, but her hesitation made the topic clear: his own fall.

Lucifer didn't answer. He didn't want to tell her, if he was honest with himself. Despite what Linda said, he tried to be honest with himself, and usually succeeded. But he knew what Azrael's response was likely to be.

"Never mind," Azrael said, when the silence had stretched too long. "Sorry. Forget I asked."

"No," Lucifer replied. "It's all right." He was quiet a moment longer, then said softly, "I remember it all. Every moment."

Azrael's breath caught. "Oh, Lucifer. I'm -"

And there it was. "No," Lucifer repeated crisply. "No pity, little sister. The Devil doesn't need pity."

"Maybe you don't need it," Azrael replied, turning to sit sideways in her seat, the better to watch her brother. "But you deserve - you deserve a little sympathy. You don't need to push me away, Luci. I'm not, I don't know, storing what you say to use against you later. I'm not Michael."

Lucifer exhaled a sigh, one hand tapping against the steering wheel in absent agitation. "I know you're not. I do. And I'm not pushing you away, little sister, I swear." He looked away from the road long enough to flash her a smile. "Devil's honor."

"Which means something," Azrael acknowledged, inclining her head with a smile.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, then admitted, "It's odd, not having you around. Much less going on in the chocolate cake department, I must say."

Azrael smiled. "I miss you, too. Ella's great - really much more insightful than I was expecting, no offense intended to her - but it's not the same. And, well, I can bring you cake, easy enough."

"Well, we shouldn't drift apart. Texting just isn't cutting it, honestly." Lucifer smiled. "Let's get dinner soon. How's the day after tomorrow?"

Azrael nodded, but then made a face, exhaling a soft sigh. "I want to get together, but I'm busy that night."

"You've got plans?" Lucifer queried, sounding more intrigued than upset by her refusal. "Whatever are you doing? Movie night with Miss Lopez?" When Azrael mumbled a response, he prompted, "Sing out, Louise."

Azrael smiled briefly. Looking a little embarrassed, but still resolute, she explained, "I'm babysitting for a family from St. Brennan's."

It was fortunate for them both that they were at a stoplight, as Lucifer likely would have caused a vehicular incident in his shock, were he still driving. "Azrael, tell me you're joking." When she kept silent, he asked, tone disbelieving, "But  _why_ , Rae? Interacting with them on purpose? And without their parents, so you can't just... leave?"

"I'm trying to make myself useful while I'm here," Azrael explained, though she studied the dashboard as she spoke. "Not to curry favor with Dad, or anything like that - just to... make things better. And Mary Grace and Andrew haven't been out without the kids since before Sarah was born. It'll do them good." She risked a glance at her brother. Seeing that his expression was free of mockery, she added, "It's just a small thing, but I want to do it."

Lucifer considered his response, then said lightly, "Well, that's... nice of you." Catching the edge of Azrael's dubious look as he eased back into traffic, he clarified, "No, really. I mean, nice isn't exactly my thing, but it's not  _bad_."

"Well, no," Azrael agreed. "I mean, 'nice,' by definition isn't..." She shook her head, dismissing the linguistic train of thought. "But don't sell yourself short, brother. You're not without a certain niceness, yourself."

"Now, take that back," Lucifer protested, a note of teasing in his voice.

"Never!" Azrael replied, laughing.

Shaking his head, Lucifer grumbled good-naturedly, "Next you'll be comparing me to Michael."

"Never," Azrael repeated quietly, though this time her voice rang with sincerity. "Michael never would have helped me the way you have, and not just tonight. There's no comparison. Thank you for that, brother."

Lucifer was quiet for a moment - concentrating on driving, of course. "Well. You're welcome, of course. Anything to thumb my nose at dear old Dad." He cleared his throat, then continued, "Speaking of our beloved brother, though, I want you to tell me every single detail of your encounter with him in Miss Lopez's living room."

Azrael gave him a long, level look, enough to let him know that she had taken note of the distraction and wasn't fooled by it. Still, the topic was too amusing to let go. "Oh, Luci," she began, her voice brimming with laughter. "He was being a jerk, and then Ella came out with this... this fake weapon, and she yelled at him in Klingon of all things and..." She sighed, but it was clearly a happy sound. "I wish you could have seen his face."

"Oh, me, too," Lucifer agreed. "Though I put the fear of Dad into poor Mikey this afternoon, and that was a pretty fun face, as well."

"Fear of Dad?" Azrael echoed, her interest obvious.

With a vague gesture in the general direction of her neck, Lucifer elaborated, "Miss Lopez said he healed you. That's a miracle right there, and I doubt dear old Dad approved of Miss Lopez witnessing it. I'm surprised goody-two-shoes Mikey did it, to be honest."

Leaning back against the car door, Azrael said tentatively, "Well, it wasn't a big healing, and it's not like Ella didn't know about us already, but - oh, Luci, he made his hand glow while he was doing it." Azrael chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. "He put on a show for her. I honestly don't know what he was thinking."

"You didn't let him get away with that, did you?" Lucifer queried, though not without a laugh of his own.

"Of course not," Azrael replied. "I'm a little sister. There are rules." She thought for a moment, then observed, "Actually, I probably invented the rules, as few girls as there are in the lot of us."

Lucifer agreed, "Dad does tend to shoot boys," he observed, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to gesture at his lap. The gesture, Azrael reflected, was mercifully vague.

"Ew. There's a mental image I did not need. Thanks for that."

"Oh," Lucifer replied, his tone all innocence. "There are rules for older brothers, too, didn't you know? As for why Michael was putting on a show for Miss Lopez, he said she was a fan," Lucifer offered. "Though he didn't bother to call her by name."

"You know how he can be about humans," Azrael observed, with a small shrug. She added, "She said she was. A fan, I mean. You know, Catholicism. Or maybe you don't," she amended. "I mean, I've kind of kept tabs to see what they did with what Josh told them, but you don't have any reason to... wait." Azrael made a strangled sort of gasp, realizing, "He was trying to impress her. Michael! Ella!"

"Verbs help, when you're speaking," Lucifer said, amused.

"And I think she likes him," Azrael continued, still sounding a little shocked. "I mean, I don't know if she  _likes_  him likes him, or if it's more of a 'hey, you're one of the foundations of my religion' sort of likes."

Stopping at a red light, Lucifer gave his sister an amused look. "You know you're not really eleven, yes? And whether she  _likes_  him likes him doesn't matter. You know how Michael is."

Azrael shook her head. "You didn't see them bonding over that... whatsit, bat'leth. You know how Michael feels about bladed weapons."

"What a lovely foundation for a relationship," Lucifer observed dryly. "If that were all it took, he and Maze would have a houseful of offspring by now." He grinned at Azrael's horrified expression, then added, "I don't know that anything will come of it, but keep an eye on Miss Lopez, would you?"

Azrael nodded agreeably. "Glad to, though I'm pretty sure Ella can take care of herself. Hey, does that count as that favor I owe you?"

"In exchange for telling my demon that you outed her yet again?" Lucifer smirked, exhaling a quiet huff of amusement. "Hardly."

Looking askance at her brother, Azrael queried warily, "Was she angry? Seeing as how she's likely going to mop the floor with me tomorrow, it's best to know."

"Not angry," Lucifer replied thoughtfully. "Annoyed." He paused, then admitted, "I think she was a little pleased, actually. She likes the idea of you rebelling against Dad."

"I wasn't -" Azrael began. Seeing Lucifer's amused look, she amended, "Not intentionally, at least. It really was kind of an impulse move." Brightening, she added, "But if it wasn't a big deal for Mazikeen, then I shouldn't owe you a favor."

Lucifer pulled to a stop before Ella's apartment. "No reneging on our deal, little sister," he chided. "Just because she took the news well doesn't negate the fact that I was the one who had to break it."

Azrael studied Lucifer, then accused, "You like it that I owe you a favor."

"Guilty as charged," Lucifer admitted, with a quick, easy smile.

Azrael exhaled a sigh. "But why, Luci? It's not like I need to owe you. If you need me to do something," she added earnestly, "I'll do it, if I can. No favors required. You know that, right?" Lucifer hesitated, and Azrael pressed gently, "Luci?"

Lucifer, after a long moment of silence, said finally, "If I could believe that of any of my siblings, it would be you."

"Well, then, if it matters..." Azrael pursed her lips, then rummaged in her backpack for a notebook and a pen. As Lucifer watched quizzically, she wrote, pausing midway to consider her words. Looking up, her smile a little self-conscious, she read aloud, "I, Azrael, Angel of Death that was, do hereby swear, avow, and affirm that I owe my brother, Lucifer Morningstar, a Really Big Favor, payable at the time of his choosing. I would do this favor out of love, even if there were no obligation." She signed the paper with a flourish, then offered it to her brother. "I'd sign in blood," she added with a faintly teasing smile. "But I don't really feel like opening a vein."

Lucifer took the paper and scanned the writing, his lips curving in a small smile. "That's hardly necessary," he replied softly. He read the words once more, then carefully folded the paper in thirds and tucked it into his breast pocket. He patted the pocket, as if to assure himself of its contents, then looked over to Azrael with a smile. "Thank you, though."

Azrael ducked her head briefly, then straightened and returned the smile. "Can we do dinner tomorrow, instead of the day after? That Thai place, maybe?"

"Of course." Lucifer smiled, though he looked back as headlights indicated a vehicle pulling in behind them. Recognizing Chloe's car, he suggested, "In you get, before Beatrice comes in here looking for you. Did you really give her four cupcakes?"

"No." Azrael grinned brightly. "I gave her six."

Lucifer smirked. "Poor Daniel."

Azrael unbuckled her seat belt, then leaned in to hug her brother. "Good night, Luci. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, yes," Lucifer replied, holding her close for a moment. One hand absently resting on that breast pocket, he watched her and Ella make their way into the apartment; he smiled when she paused to wave before going inside, lifting his hand in return.

Lucifer started the car, looking at the stars for a moment before heading back to Lux. "Whatever you're plotting, old man, just... leave her out of it." He eased onto the road and added, very quietly, "Please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the probable delay in the next chapter, though at least the reason (a family vacation) is a good one.


	3. Bring Me the Sunset in a Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael encounters two strangers and sees a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from another Dickinson poem.

Azrael settled into a seat outside the Beelzebean nearest the precinct, having caught a ride with Ella. She took a sip of her coffee and then tucked her earbuds into her ears, turning on her phone's Girl Power playlist. The weather was a little chilly, but the warmth of the sun on her face reminded her of the flying dreams she kept having. She told herself that she would just sit there for a few minutes, but she found herself letting the song lyrics wash over her, absently watching people hurry past, sipping her coffee. It was probably the coffee that kept her there, she told herself; she wanted to finish it before she left, as walking while drinking was awkward. Still, she remained even when her cup was empty, her chin tucked in her hand.

Azrael drummed her fingers on the table in time to the song's piano line, regretting that the daycare that used St. Brennan's during the week prevented her from accessing the piano in the choir room. She was there often enough that it would have been convenient; she'd started going to Wednesday morning Mass, having found that she enjoyed the Latin rite. It was attended by her and a group that mainly consisted of retirees, most of whom cheerfully accepted that she did not go to school and adored her for her regular attendance. (She had lost count of the number of times she had been told by the Wednesday-morning crew how much they wished  _their_ grandchildren cared about God the way she did. Each time, Azrael smiled and refrained from comment.)

Usually she stayed at St. Brennan's on Wednesdays and helped with the church's food pantry. She'd shut the mouths of the few parishioners who thought she should be in school when she'd helped to translate for a recent immigrant who had come seeking a relative.

"You speak - what language even is that, sweetheart?" one woman had asked, her tone querulous.

"Georgian," Azrael had replied, thinking longingly of khachapuri and long-ago days in Tiflis. Her next meal with Lucifer, she decided, should be Georgian food, and she would order the cheese bread. Food tasted better in this body, she had noticed, or maybe she just had a better appetite for it.

"Is that even a real language?" the woman had asked.

"Obviously."

Lucifer, Azrael had reflected as the woman left in a huff, would have pulled that off better than she had. It was the accent. He could say the most awful things and people would let the words slide right off them, because of the accent. Well, that and his other charms.

* * *

After some time, Azrael saw a figure in blue pause at her side, then gesture at her ears. Pulling out one of her earbuds, Azrael turned her gaze to the man with a smile of polite inquiry. The lyrics, now audible to them both, were particularly profane, and Azrael bit back a sigh. Of course they were.

"Turn off the music, please," the tall man instructed, his brows lifting at the song. His face wasn't familiar, but the LAPD uniform was.

Azrael pulled out the second earbud and fumbled with her phone to turn off her music, flicking a glance to his nametag. "Is something wrong, Officer... Woods?" she asked disingenuously, thinking,  _Wonderful._

Officer Woods smiled faintly. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Oh," Azrael replied with a glance to her phone. "It's 10:30." She folded her hands on the table, nodding as if to say,  _There you go. Question answered. Move along, now._

Looking just a little amused, Officer Woods queried, "Isn't there somewhere you should be at 10:30 in the morning on a Friday?"

Azrael glanced around herself in apparently innocent puzzlement, then back to the officer. "I don't think so. I mean, I might go grab a scone. Have you tried the Rice Krispie scones here? I've heard they're good, but they sound kind of weird, you know?"

"How old are you, young lady?" the officer asked, his expression going serious.

Azrael smiled faintly. "In my experience, questions ending in 'young lady' tend to mean that the conversation is going in an unpleasant direction." She tucked her phone in her bag and took up her empty coffee cup. "It's been nice chatting with you, Officer."

Looking a little annoyed, Officer Woods asked, "Where are your parents? Do they know where you are?"

Opting not to inform the officer that there were those who believed that her father was everywhere, Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, shooting a glance skyward and thinking that a little help from above wouldn't go amiss. Of course, this could also be her father's way of putting her in her place, in which case she could expect no help whatsoever.

"I asked you a question," Officer Woods said sharply.

Azrael sighed and started to answer when a familiar voice sounded from behind her. "Why are you questioning my daughter?"

Azrael turned, and there was her mother, expression stern. She took a moment to be grateful that the look was directed at the officer, and not at herself. Was this help? There was no way her father had sent her mother, but Azrael couldn't deny that her presence was helpful.

The officer looked between them and obviously noted their resemblance. "I thought she was ditching school," he replied. "You know, the truancy laws..."

Drawing herself up, Charlotte replied coolly, "She most certainly is not. Come along, sweetheart." She extended an arm to Azrael, who got to her feet, brushing past the officer.

"Nice meeting you, Officer," Azrael said sweetly. As they walked out of earshot, Azrael said, "Great timing, Mom. What are you doing here?"

"My office is right around the corner," Charlotte replied. "I felt like taking a walk. It seems that was a good thing."

Looking around to get her bearings, Azrael nodded. Noting her mother's Beelzebean cup, she said, puzzled, "I thought your office had that fancy coffeemaker. Why go to Beelzebean?"

Her lips pursing in something that was almost a smile, Charlotte said, "Well, one of the baristas has rather attractive hindquarters." Seeing Azrael's wry face, she added, "Sweetheart, live a little. Presumably your father is going to put you back to work eventually; you might as well have fun while you're here. I know you're not going to  _do_  anything like that, particularly not in that body, but you can look."

Azrael snorted softly. "You're telling me to live a little, and you can't even say the barista has a nice butt. You sound like a robot, Mom, if robots looked like... " She waved vaguely at her mother, taking in the red dress with an approving nod. She paused a beat, then added, "You meant Alex, right?" Seeing Charlotte's eyebrows arch, she looked a little embarrassed, but said, "I wasn't objecting to the admiration, just that it was my  _mother_  doing the admiring. I agree that Alex has a nice butt. I do have the eyes Dad gave me."

"Right," Charlotte scoffed. "Like I had nothing to do with those eyes. Eyes were  _my_  idea. Speaking of your father, though..." Charlotte turned a thoughtful eye on her daughter, saying, "We should catch up. Amenadiel tells me that you've had an interesting time of it."

"Ah, yes," Azrael agreed, inwardly cursing her brother and wondering just how much he had told their mother. "You could say that." Still she walked along with her mother to Richards and Wheeler.

Charlotte dropped the full Beelzebean cup into her assistant's garbage and requested that he bring in two coffees, then swept into her office. Azrael followed, though not before giving the man a sympathetic look and a smile. Steering clear of the couch, she stepped past her mother's desk to peer out the window.

Charlotte followed, though she studied her daughter rather than the view. When Azrael didn't turn her way, she reached to touch the girl's cheek with the back of her hand. "Are you all right?" she asked, her tone unwontedly hesitant. "Amenadiel said you'd been injured."

Azrael looked, then, and her lips curved in a small smile. "I'm okay. I... Did he tell you the, um, details?"

Charlotte nodded. "He did. And your little bug was actually the one who told me you disappeared. I do wish that you'd kept me informed, Azrael."

Azrael looked baffled for a moment, then realized, "Trixie. She said she came to you, looking for me."

"Your little bug told me," Charlotte added slowly, "that you showed her your wings. So she knows what you are?"

Azrael took a deep breath, then nodded.

"And Lucifer's detective knows, too?" Charlotte's voice was even and smooth and Azrael straightened, suddenly wary.

"Mom, they do have names," Azrael protested. Charlotte regarded her steadily, and Azrael admitted, "Yes. I don't know how much Chloe knows about you, specifically, as I think Lucifer did some more explaining, but she know about me and Luci, and she knows you're my mother, so..." Her words trailed off uneasily, and she added, "I'm sorry. Not that I told them. That I didn't tell you that they knew."

The sound of dishes rattling announced the arrival of Charlotte's assistant. Bearing not just coffee but also a small plate of cookies, he set the tray on the table and offered Azrael a brief smile and a wink before taking himself out of the room.

Azrael drifted over to the table. "Chocolate chip," she approved of the cookies, though she took up the coffee first, bringing the other cup over to Charlotte.

Charlotte murmured her thanks as she took the cup. "Have you told... anyone else?" Seeing Azrael hesitate, she said crisply, "You may as well tell me. I'll find out eventually."

Azrael took a drink of her coffee, then nodded approvingly. "Nice," she murmured. "You should give him a raise." She looked askance at her mother, then asked, "Are you angry that they know?"

Charlotte stepped to the table and added sugar to her coffee, with a brief smile for the mention of her assistant's salary. "No," she said slowly, in answer to Azrael's question. "Though I do sense your father's hand in this." Seeing Azrael's attention focus, she nodded. "You think so, too, yes? So who else knows, Azrael? It's obvious that someone does from how you're acting."

Azrael was silent for a moment, then said carefully, "I just want to be sure that there won't be any... retaliation against the people who know."

"Sweetheart, what do you take me for?" Charlotte replied, her brows lifting. She sat on the couch, crossing her legs, and gave her daughter a vaguely challenging look.

"I'm just remembering plagues, Mom," Azrael replied, squaring her shoulders. "A certain flood. You don't like humans, and I don't want my friends to face consequences for my actions."

Charlotte pursed her lips, then set her coffee cup on the table. "I have found," she said slowly, "that some individual humans are... not awful. I won't do anything to your... friends."

"Why did you say it like that?" Azrael queried. "Do you think I shouldn't consider them my friends? Who else would be? The Silver City is full of intrigue. Hell is... Hell. It's not like there are a lot of options."

Charlotte shook her head. "I didn't mean anything by it, Azrael. You're reading too much into a little pause."

"Don't overthink it," Azrael murmured. She studied her mother for a moment, then asked, "Are you talking about Dan, when you said some humans weren't awful?"

"You didn't tell  _him_ , did you?" Charlotte queried, her eyes widening.

"No," Azrael replied, with a brief smile. "Mom, did you really... you know... with Dan?" She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

Her expression gone relieved, Charlotte replied, a note of teasing in her voice, "You can't even say 'have sex'? And, well, yes. Multiple times, in fact. He's very athletic." Taking in her daughter's wry expression, she added, amused, "You did ask."

"But not for details! Seriously, Mom. You're as bad as Luci." Azrael took a cookie - chocolate consolation, she thought, with a breath that was half a sigh - and took a bite. "Mm," she approved.

"Yes, well, you have not successfully distracted me, sweetheart, but you came close," Charlotte said lightly. "Who else knows?"

Azrael took a deep breath. "Ella Lopez. She's a forensic tech, works with Chloe and Lucifer. I've been staying with her since I moved out of the penthouse."

Startled, Charlotte sat upright, querying, "You moved out of the penthouse? To live with a human? Did you have an argument with your brother?"

Azrael shook her head, assuring, "No, we're fine. I just... I can't stay with him, not knowing that Dad may well have sent me here to mess with his life."

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully, with a brief flicker of something in her eyes Azrael couldn't quite name. "When your little bug came here to talk to me, she said that I, as your mother, should know where you are. I can't entirely disagree with that."

"Mom, she's not a bug, and she's not  _mine_ ," Azrael flared. She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, visibly reining herself in, then continued, choosing her words carefully. "I've gotten out of the habit of keeping you informed of my whereabouts. Dad, too, if it makes you feel any better."

Charlotte considered her daughter through narrowed eyes for a moment, then relaxed and smiled. "Strangely, that does." She hesitated, then said, her words coming slowly, "Amenadiel said your father healed you, when you were injured. He came to this plane. In a  _body_." She made a face, smoothing her skirt over her legs. Keeping her eyes on her hands, she asked, "How... how did he look?"

"Like an old man in a sweater," Azrael replied lightly, smiling as Charlotte lifted her gaze. After a moment, she added, "He didn't mention you until he was leaving. He asked me to tell you something, but apparently changed his mind, as he didn't finish the sentence."

"Typical," Charlotte muttered, a certain light fading from her eyes.

Azrael nodded, with a small smile. "Communication is not his strong point," she agreed. She paused a beat, then added gently, "I'm sorry, Mom."

Charlotte fussed with her coffee cup, then shook her head dismissively. "Don't apologize for your father." She looked over then, with a faint smile. "I'm glad he was there to heal you, sweetheart. I wish I could have been there to help."

"It was sort of an... immediate need," Azrael said lightly. "And we talked after, and he and Luci talked. That went about as well as you would expect, but at least my house is still standing."

Shaking her head, Charlotte said lightly, "Their relationship always was tempestuous."

Azrael murmured something about understatement, exhaling a soft sigh. She finished her cookie, visibly considered another, and then opted for another drink of coffee instead.

Charlotte got to her feet once more, leaving her coffee aside, and moved to stand next to her daughter. Azrael looked up to see a flicker of vulnerability in her mother's expression, quickly masked. "Can I see them?" Charlotte queried. Seeing Azrael's puzzlement, she clarified, "Your wings." After a moment, she added softly, "Please?"

Azrael's expression softened. "Chad won't come in? Your assistant," she added.

"I don't think that's his name," Charlotte replied, with a faint frown. "But, no, he won't."

"He looks like a Chad," Azrael replied, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. She nodded, though she still moved so that she wasn't in the direct line of sight of the doorway before she unfurled her wings.

Charlotte stepped closer, her expression fond. She reached to touch Azrael's wing, though she paused and waited for a nod from her daughter before completing the gesture. "I'd forgotten how lovely they are," she said, with the gentlest of touches.

"Lucifer's were prettier," Azrael demurred. "And Amenadiel had a wider wingspan. And Michael -"

"Now stop that," Charlotte chided. "Really, you need to learn to accept compliments. They're different from your brothers' wings, but they're beautiful because they're part of you. And you were the one flying before you could walk, not Lucifer or Amenadiel or Michael."

Azrael smiled, shaking her head. "I did that? I don't remember."

Chuckling softly, Charlotte replied, "Well, you wouldn't; you were tiny. I wasn't sure you ever would learn to walk, you loved flying so much," she added, with a fond smile. "It took Lucifer bribing you for it to happen."

Azrael extended her wings just a little, her expression reflective and affectionate. An image flickered into her mind: a clean-shaven Lucifer crouched before her, his hands extended, his voice cajoling, but she wasn't sure if it was memory or wishful thinking. "I didn't know that. Thanks, Mom."

"Of course, sweetheart," Charlotte replied. "You know, giving you children wings, that was my idea."

Azrael began to reply, but was interrupted by a buzz from Charlotte's desk phone. She whisked away her wings , her eyes widening a little, and Charlotte's assistant's voice sounded. "Sorry to interrupt, but your 11:45 is here."

Charlotte started to say something about canceling, but Azrael shook her head. "No, Mom, I can head out. Just let me finish my coffee." She smiled a little sheepishly, but took up her cup once more, draining the last of her drink.

"You'll burn your mouth," Charlotte fussed, but Azrael shook her head as she set down the empty cup.

"Worth it," the girl replied, smiling. After an awkward moment, she added, "I'll try to be better about keeping in touch. Thanks for the story, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Azrael stepped out of the office as Chad - or possibly Brent - ushered in the waiting young couple, then turned to her and asked, "Is she really your mom? I didn't know that she had kids other than the twins."

Azrael paused a beat, then nodded. "Our family's a little complicated. Hey, thanks for the cookies."

The young man studied her for a moment, then said, "I should have guessed. You look just like her. Hey, have a good afternoon, kiddo."

"Thanks, you, too." Azrael made her way to the street. "Kiddo," she muttered. " _Kiddo._ " She kicked irritably at a discarded soda can, then, with an exasperated sound, chased it down and scooped it up, tossing it in a recycling bin.

A boy about the age of her body stormed out of a nearby building, closely followed by a woman with enough resemblance to him to be a family member. "Well, if you'd just _practice_ , William," she called after him. The pair brushed past Azrael and she looked over at the building they had exited.

"Huh," she murmured, reading the sign on the door. "A music school." She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The empty waiting room was tiny, but bright and cheerful; several lesson rooms opened off the single hallway, leading to an office at the end of the hall. Each lesson room had a whiteboard on the door; each whiteboard but the last had a schedule written on it. Halting music came from the first room, and Azrael winced as the student inside hit a wrong note. She made her way to the last practice room and pushed open the door, revealing a tiny room just big enough for the piano, the small bookshelf full of sheet music, and the chair.

After taking a moment to nudge the door nearly closed, Azrael seated herself at the piano and played a simple chord. The tone was sweet and true, and Azrael smiled. Twisting to reach the bookshelf, she started to page through the music. "Yes," she murmured, finding an interesting piece and turning back to the piano. "This will do nicely."

She had, she decided as she played, become too used to ready access to pianos, that she was missing them this much.

She had become too used to a lot of things. Ella was lovely and Azrael was grateful to her - not a word she'd expected to find herself using about a human,  _grateful_  - but the apartment was small, and Azrael had become accustomed to a certain amount of privacy, not just at Lucifer's penthouse but in her millenia of existence. Her job, after all, had been a solitary one, and there were moments when it felt distinctly odd to be surrounded by humans who could see her, most of whom had no idea who - what - she really was, if that even was her, any more. She was used to being on the periphery, unobserved, unnoticed, even in the Silver City.

Azrael found she rather enjoyed having people meet her eyes when she came into a room, seeing them smile and hearing them greet her. Not that her brother hadn't done those things, of course, but it was different with the humans.

Lucifer did have that lovely hot tub, though, and Azrael thought longingly of it each time she tried to soak away her aches in Ella's shower, mindful of the hot water after that one time.

For there were aches. After the experiment with Linda, she felt reasonably certain that her wings wouldn't be seen; she was flying much more. She'd found enough out-of-the-way spots to take off and land, and had in fact become far too familiar with back alleys and other less-desirable locations. While her vertical takeoffs had improved as a result, her oh-too-human muscles protested the unaccustomed use. It was worth it, though, to be able to take to the air whenever she liked. Ella's apartment, after all, didn't really have room enough for her to stretch out her wings, even after they'd finally taken down the Christmas decorations. Azrael did not miss the Weeping Angel tree-topper, though she privately resolved that, if she was still in LA at Halloween, she would go in costume as a Weeping Angel. After all, she already had the wings.

* * *

Azrael wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally stopped playing, but it was long enough that a dull ache had settled in her hands. She muttered a quiet oath, shaking her hands out from the wrists, then carefully put the music away where she'd found it. Standing with a stretch, she moved to the door. As she started down the hallway, a voice sounded from the office, thinned with age but still strong. "Come in here, please, whoever you are."

Azrael considered bolting, but, curious, she stepped into the office instead. Like the waiting room, the office was small - cozy - but cheerful, with a desk, another of those bookshelves, and a battered piano. The woman behind the desk matched the room. She was tiny, with a network of wrinkles on her face that seemed mostly to come from smiling, and long, straight, black hair that seemed to have some chemical assistance in maintaining its color.

Seeing Azrael enter, she got to her feet, brows lifting. "Well. You're not what I was expecting." She frowned thoughtfully, and Azrael expected the usual questions: how old was she, why wasn't she in school, did her parents know where she was? Instead, the woman extended a hand and requested, "Let me see your hands." Azrael silently complied, and the woman turned first one hand then the other in her own hands, her fingers cool, her touch light. Seeing the bruised knuckles of Azrael's left hand, she looked at the girl, brows lifting. "Got in a fight?"

Azrael shrugged. "You should see the other guy," she replied.

That, she decided, was a better answer than,  _It happened while I was trying to keep a demon from stabbing me with a rubber knife, because those things leave pointy, pointy bruises._  Maze had suggested the rubber knives when Azrael had requested that their mat time focus on evading knife attacks. She'd made it clear that this was for Azrael's benefit, saying, "I don't want to deal with your blood all over the mat, Fun Size."

Fun Size. Wherever Maze had picked up the nickname, she'd seemed particularly pleased with it, much to Azrael's chagrin, and used it at every opportunity. Azrael knew better than to suggest that Maze might do any bleeding. And, despite all Azrael's frantic efforts, she still ended up with the bruises. Of course.

"Be more careful next time," the woman said. She considered Azrael for a moment, then asked, "No piano at your place?"

Azrael shook her head, with a quick smile as she tried to imagine where a piano would fit in Ella's apartment. "I'm staying with a friend, and her place isn't big enough." Though she did take a moment to imagine Ella's reaction if she installed a piano: probably a shrug and a "Cool," knowing the tech's unflappable nature.

The woman nodded slowly. "All right. Are you looking for a teacher?" Azrael shook her head, and the woman continued, after a brief look of disappointment, "You seem like someone who should have access to a piano. We're currently down an instructor since Anna got married and moved to Cleveland, so we have a spare practice room for the time being. We're open two to nine except for Fridays when we open at eleven for some homeschoolers, and then close at seven. Open Sundays, closed Mondays. You're welcome to use the piano until I find another instructor."

"But you don't even know me," Azrael replied, frowning a little.

The woman shrugged. "Who are you?"

"Rae," Azrael replied. "Um. Morningstar.

"Margaret Smith. Nice to meet you." Margaret smiled. "And I might not know you, Rae, but I know a musician when I see one." She gestured toward the room where Azrael had been practicing. "And when I hear one."

Azrael nodded slowly. "Thanks." She hesitated, then offered, "I can pay for the use of the room."

"I'm not taking your money, child," Margaret said firmly. "Just know that this is only a temporary situation, though it may take me some time to find the right instructor." After a moment, and a warm smile, she asked, "Do your parents know where you are? I mean in general - not at this exact moment."

Azrael nodded. Noting the woman's faint look of relief, she added, "I just saw my mom earlier today. We're okay, I think. We just have a complicated situation."

Margaret hesitated, then asked, "And your father?"

Azrael considered her response, then replied, "He doesn't live in LA."

With a nod and a quick, ready smile, Margaret said, "Well, you're welcome to come here whenever we're open, but I don't want you playing any more today, and no more than, oh, three hours a day. I don't want you overdoing it and hurting yourself. Pick times and put them on the whiteboard."

"Thank you," Azrael replied, echoing the woman's smile.

"Now scoot," Margaret said, making a shooing gesture. "I hear the sun is shining today. Go get yourself some vitamin D."

Azrael nodded, and made her way into the hallway. As she reached the door, she heard the sounds of Margaret's piano and the last song she had been playing, the Rachmaninoff. Smiling, Azrael stepped into the sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long it took to finish this chapter. It was intended to he longer, but I split it in the interest of getting something out sooner. It will not take so long for the next chapter.


	4. Platonic Ideal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael meets up with Lucifer and Chloe at the precinct, and certain revelations are made.

Azrael made her way back to Chloe's desk, though she knew from her brother's text not to expect them for a little while. She sat at the desk, the better to stay out of the way, and resisted the temptation to spin in the chair. Instead, with a small shrug, she opened the topmost of a stack of files, careful not to get them out of whatever arcane ordering system Chloe used. It was better than being bored, and it wasn't like she was squeamish about pictures of corpses.

The file was an unsolved case from earlier in the year, one that had apparently landed on Chloe's desk for review. Azrael paged through the file - she didn't usually see death from this end, after all - and it didn't take long for her to become absorbed in its contents.

It took Chloe's rather emphatic throat-clearing to draw Azrael's attention back to the land of the living. Looking up to meet two pair of eyes - Chloe's exasperated sea-green and Lucifer's amused brown - she offered an unapologetic smile. "The sister-in-law did it," she offered.

"Wait, what?" Chloe replied, reaching for the file. "But she had an alibi."

Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug as she handed over the file. "Then she lied, and apparently got other people to lie for her. She definitely did it, though." With a gesture to her brother, she added, "Luci can get her to tell the truth."

Lucifer rocked back on his heels and tucked his hands in his pockets, looking rather smugly pleased, though whether at Azrael's demonstrated helpfulness or her faith in him wasn't clear.

Chloe, looking at Azrael over the top of the file, asked, "How do you know that she did it?"

Azrael glanced around the room, then replied lightly, "It happened before I came here, so... occupational knowledge."

Clearly thinking about the current backlog of cold cases, Chloe asked, "So you remember how everyone died? Ever?"

Shifting in the chair, Azrael replied, "It depends on the situation, but I'd been paying closer attention to deaths in the area since Lucifer came here, especially after his singer died."

"Delilah," Lucifer corrected sharply. "She has a name. Had. What, you took her soul? With me right there, and you didn't even stop to say hello?"

Azrael was silent a moment, regarding her brother. "She does," she agreed softly, getting to her feet as Chloe paged through another file. "Yes, I took her soul - of course, who else? - and * _yes_ *, I stopped, but you didn't see me, and then there was a five-car pileup and I had to go." Hearing the defensive note that was creeping into her voice, she amended gently, "I'm sorry. I wanted to stay, and I should have, but... you know. The job."

"The job," Lucifer echoed, with a twist to his lips that Azrael didn't entirely like. Shaking his head, he added, "Dad engineered the car accident to take you away."

"No." Azrael spoke firmly. "He wouldn't do that." With a wry little smile, she added, in acknowledgement of Lucifer's scornful expression, "He only manipulates his kids. He wouldn't do that to humans."

Lucifer inclined his head and started to speak, but then both siblings' attention was drawn to the photograph Chloe was displaying - a face, the woman obviously dead. "How did she die?"

Azrael studied the photo for a moment, then replied, "Bled out from multiple stab wounds. She didn't know the person who did it, but he had light hair and was pretty tall."

"You don't know who he was?" Chloe asked, looking a little disappointed.

With a shrug, Azrael replied, "Only if the dead person did. And, look, you'd still have to prove it legally. I know some people enjoy vigilante justice, but I doubt you're among them." She turned back to Lucifer and started to speak, but then Chloe held up another picture. "Uh, single gunshot, but it was an accident. His cousin." As a third picture was displayed, she bit back on a sigh, but said, "Pushed down the stairs, didn't see the other person."

Behind them, Dan said, "That is the strangest pop quiz I've ever seen. Seriously, what freaky homeschool class are you doing, kid?"

Azrael turned, with a sudden, too-bright smile. "Hi, Dan. Mom and I were just talking about you, earlier today."

Dan shook his head, with a rueful expression. "Yeah, I'm just gonna keep walking." And he did, muttering something under his breath about morbid, creepy little girls, his tone amused.

"That wasn't very nice," Lucifer chided, though he looked entertained.

Azrael shrugged. "Sometimes I'm not nice. I just... I don't think Mom wants him to know about the whole celestial thing," she explained, a little sheepishly.

"You don't think Mum wants him to know, and you're just going with that?" Lucifer queried, an arch to his brows. "Since when?"

Looking away, Azrael replied, "We talked today. It was... nice. I'm not picking sides," she added, her gaze shifting back to her brother. "I just... I don't know."

"You could have told Dan you'd been looking through the files," Chloe suggested with an amused headshake.

Curious, Lucifer queried, "Were you and Mum really talking about Daniel?"

Azrael nodded. "She said -" She flicked a glance at Chloe, then said, "Highly inappropriate things. She actually helped me out earlier, though; one of your boys in blue caught me outside Beelzebean and thought I was ditching school."

Looking briefly entertained by Azrael's obviously edited words, Chloe said, "Well, it's a logical assumption. You do look like you belong in middle school."

"Gee, thanks," Azrael murmured, though not without a smile.

"What was she doing at Beelzebean?" Lucifer thought to ask.

Azrael made a face. "Ogling the barista with the nice butt."

"Oh, Alex?" Lucifer queried brightly, beaming at Azrael's nod. Catching Chloe's exasperated look, he added, "No, Detective, her butt is truly magnificent. It's what Plato would have referenced, if he'd written about butts. Actually, he did write about butts, but that was for his  _personal_  collection." He leered cheerfully, then added, "I know, we should swing by so you can see! I'll knock something over, so Alex has to -"

"No, that's okay," Chloe replied, lifting a hand in a warding gesture, all but choking at Azrael's murmured, "It really is nice, though."

The girl looked over with a vaguely embarrassed smile, adding, "I can appreciate the aesthetics."

"See?" Lucifer encouraged, with a gesture to his sister. "Even Rae thinks so, and she's still playing by dear old Dad's rules vis-a-vis sex. Worth a look, yes?"

"I can't believe you two are objectifying her like this," Chloe chided.

"Three if you count Mom," Azrael quipped. "If it helps, I also recognize that she makes great lattes. And we've had actual conversations. She's nice."

Lucifer agreed, struggling to keep a straight face, "More than just a spectacular butt."

As Dan returned, Chloe looked over with an expression of relief, perhaps assuming that he wouldn't sing the virtues of Alex at Beelzebean.

"Look," Dan said, addressing Lucifer as he waved a partly-open pudding container, "if you're the one who's messing with my pudding, I'd appreciate it if you would knock it off." He sighed, clearly frustrated. "I thought we were past this, man."

Lucifer held up two fingers as if he were saying the Boy Scout oath, eliciting a laugh from Azrael. "Hush, you," he murmured to her, before adding, "Daniel, I swear on my honor that I haven't touched your pudding, not since we had that little discussion. After all, it  _is_ clearly labeled."

Dan looked between the three: Lucifer, all injured innocence; Azrael, looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth; and Chloe, biting back a laugh at the siblings. With an inarticulate sound of annoyance, followed by an aggrieved mutter about tapioca, Dan took himself back to the break room.

"Mazikeen?" Azrael queried, looking amused at Lucifer's nod of confirmation.

"She has to entertain herself somehow," the Devil replied. "Tormenting Dan via pudding seems relatively harmless."

Curious, Azrael asked, as Chloe thumbed through more files, "What discussion were you talking about?"

"Oh, he got hold of your Blade, after all those killings at the yoga studio," Lucifer replied lightly. "Got very emotional about his pudding and -" He slid a glance at Chloe. "- certain other things."

Azrael queried, "And he shook it off?" At Lucifer's nod of confirmation, she peered after Dan, clearly impressed. "Huh. Well, good for him."

Setting down the files, Chloe asked Azrael, lowering her voice, "That knife from the yoga studio - that was yours?" Azrael nodded rather grimly, and Chloe looked between the siblings, a line furrowing between her brows. "So there's something -" She made a vague gesture. "- different about it?" Azrael nodded again, and Chloe rounded on Lucifer. "You took it, didn't you?"

"Chloe, trust me when I saw that it's not something you want in mortal hands," Azrael replied before Lucifer could answer, her voice quiet but intent. "If Lucifer took it, he did the right thing."

"If it's that dangerous, how did it get here?" Chloe demanded, though she, too, kept her voice low.

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Detective, this isn't the best place for this conversation, but Rae or I will answer your questions at a better time and place, I promise."

"All those people, dead." Chloe frowned, not entirely ready to let the topic go, but she fell silent, starting to sort the folders into two piles; Azrael suspected the piles were chronological, and that she'd be getting a closer look at one of them.

Azrael shot a glance at Lucifer and started to speak, then looked away, hoisting one hip onto the edge of Chloe's desk. When she turned her gaze back to her brother to find him watching her, amused, she wrinkled her nose at him.

"Come on, out with it, whatever it is," Lucifer said pleasantly. "What, more horrible stories about Mum? She didn't sleep with Alex, did she?"

Azrael shook her head. "Not today, at least. I hope she doesn't," she added, a faint note of complaint to her voice. "I'd never be able to go back to that Beelzebean if she did."

Lucifer grinned as he took possession of a nearby chair. "Well, we can't have that. What, then?"

"Did you really make me learn how to walk?" Azrael queried, after a moment. "Mom said... and I don't think she was angling for anything, but..."

Chloe looked over the edge of her folder to see Lucifer's answer, and didn't bother to hide a smile at the way his eyes softened, the gentle curve of his lips. It wasn't an expression she'd seen on him, she reflected. It suited him.

"Well," Lucifer replied, his voice quiet but fond. "I haven't thought about that in ages. I suppose so. You insisted on flying, but you kept tumbling about, didn't quite have the hang of directions. We were always having to haul you back where you were supposed to be. Then you managed to get in the way while Michael and Amenadiel were hacking at each other with their swords - for fun, mind, but they still weren't pulling their hits, and they very nearly damaged you. Mum was furious with Gabriel - he was meant to be watching you." He took a breath as Azrael waited, her expression rapt. "I took you away before the shouting set you off - you got quite shrill when you were upset; nice to know some things haven't changed." He laughed, though he didn't move away, when Azrael raised a hand in mock-threat. "So I sat you down and told you enough was enough, time to learn to walk."

Azrael said, with a reflective smile, "Mom said you bribed me."

Lucifer nodded, his expression brightening. "Oh, certainly. Of course it would take convincing to get you to put your feet on the ground. Why bother, after all, when you could fly?"

Azrael couldn't help but nod, though she asked, "What was the bribe?"

Leaning back a little, Lucifer replied, with a glint of amusement, "Oh, a rock I, ah, happened upon. You were fond of sparkly things and snapped it up. Honestly, I'm surprised you never ended up on Hoarders, as acquisitive as you were back then."

Azrael pressed her lips together for a moment, then wordlessly dipped a hand into the front of her shirt and pulled out a stone on a chain.

Thanks to Trixie's recent obsession with rocks, Chloe might have called the stone a geode. That, at least, was the closest thing she could come up with, though the stone was smooth and flat and oval-shaped. Of a size to fit comfortably in the hand of a tiny child, it looked as if someone - and she had a good idea who - had encapsulated a glimmering galaxy in the rock.

"Yes," Lucifer agreed softly, reaching to cup the stone, his hand dwarfing it. "That's it."

"I never remembered where I got it," Azrael admitted. "Just that it was special."

Lucifer drew himself upright, releasing the stone. "Yes, well, now you know."

Azrael watched him, a hint of understanding in her expression. "It's okay to remember that it wasn't all awful," she said gently. "I mean, I know a lot of it was, for you, but not all of it." Her tone crept upward at the end of the sentence, not quite turning it into a question.

"No, not all if it." Something about Lucifer's face suggested that perhaps, at least for him, it wasn't okay to remember the positives about the Silver City. His expression shuttered for a moment, and then he pulled on a smile. "Well, that's the story of how Azrael learned that it was possible, though not preferable, not to fly all the time. Here endeth the lesson."

Azrael looked for a moment like she might push the issue, but a look at her brother's determinedly pleasant expression made her shake her head and tuck away the necklace.

"So," Chloe said, earning Lucifer's prompt and grateful attention for her diversion, "Trixie has decided that she wants to fly."

Azrael, looking toward the exit, turned back to Chloe. "I'm sorry. I've told her I can't. I don't want to risk her. Maybe once I've been restored to myself, though..." She frowned and didn't finish.

Lucifer got that twist to his smile again, and didn't say anything.

Chloe glanced between the siblings, but said, "No, she wants flying lessons. In a plane."

Lucifer offered, "I know a pilot; she owes me a favor. Wouldn't cost you a dime."

"Of course you do," Chloe replied, amused. "But I couldn't, Lucifer. That's too much."

"Why?" Lucifer queried, honestly confused. "It's not like it's a doll or something. Or did your daughter destroy more of her possessions in an attempt to get flying lessons?"

"Well, no," Chloe replied.

Azrael, hiding a smile as she saw the detective wavering, offered, "It's educational, Chloe. Also a good start toward Trixie getting to Mars."

"In a plane?" Chloe queried.

"NASA likes pilots," Lucifer replied, with a shrug. "It'd be no trouble, really, Detective."

Chloe frowned thoughtfully. "I'll think about it. But what was the favor you did for this pilot?"

"A gentleman never tells," Lucifer said, though his tone was mild, rather than lascivious. "It was innocent, though; she'd be perfectly safe for Beatrice."

Chloe nodded. "I'll let you know." Turning to Azrael, she asked, "You still coming over tonight?"

Azrael nodded. "Yes, if it's still okay. I want to make sure Ella has enough time to herself - not that I'm not willing to watch Buffy with her every night. I mean, I can get behind a tiny, blond protagonist." She realized what she said just a moment too late, and sighed, lifting a hand to rub at her forehead.

"Ding dong," Lucifer murmured, his eyebrows lifting at the twin disgusted looks from the tiny, blond protagonists before him. "What? She's quippy and she kicks ass. What's not to like?"

"I thought you were going to make a 'get behind' sex joke," Azrael accused.

"Well, of course I was thinking it," Lucifer admitted. "You can't just hand me a straight line like that and not expect me to go there."

Azrael lifted her eyes skyward and turned back to Chloe, ignoring Lucifer's grin as she continued, "But I think Ella said she was going to try to get the Tribe together. You're going, right? I mean -" She lowered her voice. "- I'm older than humanity. I can keep track of Trixie for one evening. I even have a reference," she added, an amused glint in her eyes.

"Right, Lucifer mentioned you were babysitting," Chloe agreed, something about her expression suggesting that Lucifer had, in fact, gone on at length about his sister's new vocation.

"C'mon, Luci, tell her she should go out," Azrael urged.

Nodding, Lucifer agreed, "Absolutely! You ladies should come have fun at Lux. Drinks on the house!"

Azrael leaned against Chloe's desk. "Look," she said with a quick smile, ticking off her points on one hand. "I'll only let Trixie manipulate me into staying up half an hour past bedtime, eating a moderate amount of sugar, watching one ridiculous animated movie - okay, two if one is The Incredibles - and reading four bedtime stories." More seriously, she added, "We won't leave the house, and no flying. Promise." Chloe hesitated, and Azrael lost her smile, her gaze dropping, the hand she'd been using to tick off points closing into a limp fist. "Or not. Okay, never mind."

Chloe shook her head, protesting, "Rae, I'm just not sure if I want to go out tonight, that's all." Azrael didn't look up, and Chloe added, "It's not because of yesterday."

"You know the detective," Lucifer added lightly, his eyes on his sister after a quick, curious glance at Chloe. "She's boring. Her idea of fun is reading stories to her offspring."

"That's true," Chloe agreed, with a quick smile. She studied Azrael, then admitted, "And I worry, a little, that Trixie sees you more as a friend than an authority figure."

Azrael took a moment to mull that over, and nodded. "Maybe she does. But sometimes friends can accomplish things that authority figures can't." She fidgeted with some pens on Chloe's desk, missing the hopeful look that Lucifer was giving the detective.

Chloe exhaled a barely audible sigh. "Okay, I'll go. I'm not promising Lux," she added, as Azrael looked up and Lucifer beamed. "After all, it's not just my decision."

Azrael smiled. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Want to catcha ride?" the detective queried, with a small smile. "I still have some work to do, so it would be a little while."

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "No thanks. Think I'll stretch my wings."

Lucifer and Chloe watched her go, a small spring in her step, then Lucifer said, "Don't worry, Detective. The offspring-sitting will be fine. How much trouble could they get into after all?" He frowned in puzzlement at the exasperated look Chloe gave him. "What?"

"Do you watch horror movies?" Chloe waited for Lucifer's amused headshake, then said, "There are things you don't do in a horror movie, not if you want to make it to the end of the movie. You don't separate the group, you don't go into the basement, and you  _don't_  say things like  _I think we're safe now_  or  _How much trouble could they get into?_ " Laughing as she shook her head, Chloe informed Lucifer, "If they cause some sort of disaster, you're helping me clean it up."

Still looking amused, Lucifer said, "Horror movies aside, I still think it's a pretty safe bet. Rae can handle herself, and I'm reasonably certain she can wrangle your offspring. And if she does cause a disaster,  _she_  should clean it up."

"It's the combination of the two of them, though," Chloe said. "See, Trix has decided that Rae needs to do kid things, since she's in a kid body. She'll say -" And here Chloe did a spot-on imitation of her child in full-on sweet manipulation mode, far better than her Lucifer impression. "- 'Mommy, I'll bet Rae's * _never_ * been on the swings at a playground,' or a water park, or the science museum, things like that."

Leaning against a nearby desk, Lucifer queried, amused, "And what does my sweet sister do?"

"Plays along, for the most part," Chloe replied. "Though she drew the line at the water park. Too many people and too cold, she said. And we almost got in trouble at the science museum - that's what happened yesterday. There were protesters about some traveling exhibit on evolution. They were picketing, and some of the signs were... well, they were expressing what the picketers said were Jesus' opinions. I'm not sure Josh would have agreed with them."

Lucifer winced just a bit. "I take it Rae didn't appreciate that? She's always been a bit protective of him and how he's portrayed. Older sibling and all."

Chloe smiled briefly at the mention of protective older siblings, but then her expression sobered. "She told me to stay with Trix -  _told_  me, and then went over to them, just assumed that I'd stay behind."

"Did you?" Lucifer queried, his expression thoughtful.

Chloe nodded, with a small frown. "Well, yes, I... it wasn't far, and I didn't want Trixie to get any closer. Lucifer, if I'd thought -"

"No, no, I'm not upset," Lucifer assured her. "As I said, Rae can handle herself. But what did she do?"

Looking a little troubled, Chloe said, "I'm not sure what she said to him, Lucifer, but the look on her face, and I think her eyes turned black for a second - her entire eyes. It looked like it was going to get ugly, but the guy she was talking to just... backed off. And then they all left. I checked with the museum, and they didn't come back today. They'd been there every day this week, since the exhibit arrived."

With a faint frown, Lucifer asked, "And this happened yesterday?"

"We went for a few hours after Trixie got out of school, yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

"Murder's a distracting thing," Lucifer absolved. "What I find interesting is that Rae herself didn't mention it. I wonder if she realizes what she's done."

Frowning a little, Chloe asked, "What did she do?"

Hands lifted in a gesture of unwonted uncertainty, Lucifer replied, "I'm not entirely sure."

"Are you worried?" Chloe pressed.

Lucifer turned his gaze back to Chloe. "Beatrice is safe with her," he said, his voice utterly certain. "Don't concern yourself on that account. I'm just wondering... something similar happened while she was handling her blade."

"Right," Chloe agreed. "That blade that one of you will explain to me later." Her tone made it clear that the explanation was not optional.

Lucifer nodded. His manner conciliatory, he added, "Daresay she'll take it with her when she leaves, so it won't be an issue." Frowning a little, he added, "Beatrice understands that, yes? That my sister is only here temporarily? And once she leaves..."

Chloe peered at him, brows lifting. "What, you think she'll take off and not come back?"

"You heard her." Lucifer gestured in the direction Azrael had taken. His voice deftly mimicking his sister, accent and all, he added, "The job." He sighed and returned to his own voice. "It's very demanding."

Chloe put down the files stepped around the desk to stand before Lucifer. "Hey," she said gently. "She loves you. She wouldn't do that. You know she'll come back."

His expression bleak, Lucifer replied, "Detective, what in the world gave you the idea that she'll have a choice?" He pushed to his feet and moved restlessly into the relative privacy of the hallway, Chloe trailing behind. "Dear old Dad sent her here for her task, and then he'll take her away. He's just left her here long enough for -" He leaned against the wall, and Chloe rested a hand on his back.

"For you to remember how much you love her," she suggested, and Lucifer nodded. Chloe exhaled an annoyed huff. "Your Dad's an asshole."

That sparked a smile from Lucifer, albeit a wan one. "Hearing that never gets old."

Chloe watched him for a moment, then asked, "Want to head out? I can wrap things up here."

"And be deprived of the joy of watching you do paperwork?" Lucifer asked - watching, Chloe noted, not  _doing_. "Perish the thought." He gestured for Chloe to lead the way back to her desk, his smile fading to a thoughtful frown as he followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. In writing this chapter, I attempted to find out, via Google, if Plato ever wrote about butts. That ranks up there among my weirdest Google searches ever.


	5. A Dark Sense of Humor and Unhealthy Coping Strategies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael encounters her brother Michael and gives him both advice and money; Chloe, Azrael, and Trixie discuss the day over dinner; Maze participates briefly via telephone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers of Television Without Pity will recognize Azrael's explanation to Trixie of when she should ask God for help. Trixie's response to Azrael's comment about God making everything was adapted from one of the lovely Let's Wing It fics. Sadly, I can't remember which one and they are all kind of a blur, so please mention in the comments if it was you or if you remember who it was. Apologies for anything else I may have inadvertently purloined.

Azrael came to a neat landing next to the dumpster behind Chloe and Maze's apartment building. An undignified spot, she mused as she tucked away her wings, but one where she was less likely to be spotted. She pulled out her hair tie, shaking out her ponytail, then loped around to the front of the building, where she perched on one of the benches there. It would be some time before Chloe and Trixie returned, she knew, but she was still leery of flying too much at once and so had ended her flight; this particular bench was a good one for people watching, so she settled in to wait.

She paused in the process of putting in her earbuds as she saw a familiar figure making his way toward her, and scooted over to make room.

"Hello, brother," she greeted, her tone a little wary.

Michael folded himself to a seat next to her. "Azrael," he replied, inclining his head. "And before you ask, no, I'm not here to take you home, though I think you're making progress."

Azrael wondered at the niggling sense of relief that she felt, the tension leaving her shoulders. Was it the progress Michael mentioned that caused those feelings, or something else? "I'm... what?" she replied, her voice nearly cracking on the second word. "Did Dad say that?"

Michael lifted his shoulders. "Not in so many words, but you know how he is." He caught sight of Azrael's dubious look and smiled. "Just keep on as you've been going, little sister. You'll be home before you know it."

Azrael shook her head. "Michael, do you know what the end goal is? Even a hint?" He shook his head, and Azrael sighed.

"You've been flying a lot more," Michael offered, in an obvious attempt at moving away from an awkward subject. "You're looking good. Nice turns."

Azrael smiled. "Thanks. I've been working hard on it." She looked away, watching a woman approaching with her dog, then admitted, "It's a little nerve-wracking. I keep expecting the sky to throw me down."

Michael hesitated, then rested a tentative hand on her shoulder. "What happened with that storm isn't likely to happen again. Even with your current... limitations, I'm sure you'll be okay."

Azrael flicked a glance at her brother's hand, but didn't shrug it off, instead saying, "Thanks. And, well, what doesn't kill you..."

"Makes you stronger," Michael supplied, with an approving smile.

Azrael shook her head, with a glint in her eyes. "Nah. What doesn't kill you gives you a dark sense of humor and unhealthy coping mechanisms. If you're going to give me another ridiculous t-shirt, put  _that_  on it."

Michael laughed, though he cut off the sound as the dog-walker, having heard Azrael's words, all but tripped over her own feet as she turned to stare at the girl.

Azrael smiled and called brightly, "Cute dog."

The dog-walker stammered her thanks and continued on her way.

"That wasn't very nice," Michael observed, though without heat.

"You're the second sibling today to tell me that," Azrael replied, unconcerned. "She was eavesdropping. That wasn't my fault."

Michael considered his sister's words, then nodded, with an agreeable shrug. "Not like she was injured."

The two sat silently for a moment, though it was more awkward than companionable, until Azrael finally asked, "So that's why you're here? To tell me to keep on as I have been? I mean, not that I don't appreciate you coming now, rather than showing up in the middle of the night, but I've kind of got plans..."

"Well," Michael said, and his awkward tone was enough to focus Azrael's attention. "Actually. Your... friend."

Azrael had an idea who he meant, but she turned wide, confused eyes on him. "I have more than one friend, brother." She smiled, realizing that it was true. Who would have thought?

"Of course," Michael replied hastily. "But I mean the one with the excellent..." His hands sketched a curve, and Azrael's eyebrows inclined sharply. Michael finished, tone a little defensive, "Excellent taste in weaponry. Honestly, Azrael, what did you think I was going to say?"

"I thought you meant her breasts," Azrael replied frankly, not bothering to hide her laugh at Michael's horrified expression, though she realized that his hand-motion had been meant to indicate a bat'leth. "That's what that gesture usually means, I thought."

"I never," her brother sputtered. "I wouldn't!"

"You never?" Azrael replied, with emphasis, enjoying watching Michael squirm. "You  _wouldn't_?"

Michael gaped at her. "No!"

Azrael shrugged. "You're allowed to look," she replied. "You're just... I don't know, admiring Dad's creation. Flowers are pretty, right? We're allowed to look at them."

"Ella's not a flower," Michael replied seriously.

Azrael smiled. "Okay, fair point. And, hey, you do know her name! Good for you - up top!" She held up a hand for a high five.

Michael looked down his nose at her. "You're being ridiculous."

Azrael, enjoying being ridiculous, gave her hand a little shake, until Michael finally gave it a half-hearted slap.

"There you go," Azrael encouraged. She inhaled to say more, possibly channeling Lucifer to inform Michael of what other things one might do with a flower, but then Michael's gaze grew distant. It took a second for Azrael to realize what was happening, and then she had to close her eyes against the acid tide of jealousy that rose within her, all but choking her. "Couldn't you gave done that before you got here?" she asked as she opened her eyes, her words clipped, her diction razor-sharp, consonants popping. Head tilting so she could see the sky, she suggested crisply, "Or you could just talk to me yourself."

"He can't," Michael said gently. When Azrael rounded on him, he added, "I thought you knew. Your mortal body, it's too limited. He can send feelings... dreams, but he can't talk to you the way he could if you were in your usual form. That body can't take so much divinity."

Azrael rested her head in her hands, arms braced on her thighs. "So he can't talk to me because of the body that  _he put me in_." She felt Michael's hand on her back and shook if off, though she kept her face covered for a moment longer before she sat up, her expression bleak. "I don't know why I expected anything different. What did he say?"

"The child's father," Michael began, frowning.

Azrael sighed as she sat up. "Michael. I know more than one child. Humans have names, you know. I swear, you're as bad as Mom."

"I am not!" Michael lurched to his feet and Azrael recoiled at her brother's sudden fury.

"Sorry, sorry," she said hurriedly, hating herself for capitulating but reminding herself that  _of course_  comparison to their mother would offend Michael. After all, he was solidly Team Dad. She put a gentling hand on her brother's arm and he returned to the bench, his posture suggesting ruffled feathers and mantled wings. "I just don't know which child you mean. Is it one of the kids from Saint Brennan's?"

Michael shook his head, still bristling. "The one who lives here."

Azrael nodded, carefully pulling her hand away from Michael's arm. "Okay, she's Trixie. And her father is Dan." She wondered, biting back on a moment of hysteria, if Michael knew what - who - Dan had been doing. Best not to mention it. Discretion, she decided, was the better part of valor.

"Yes," Michael agreed, unbending a little. "That one. Bring him some pudding."

Azrael stared at her brother in disbelief. "So I'm finally getting specific instructions from our father and it has to do with  _pudding_?"

Michael inclined his head, adding, "Make it yourself. Butterscotch."

"Butterscotch?" Azrael repeated, incredulous. "Why does it matter if I make it myself?" Though, really, she didn't mind so much. It was just... really? Pudding? Michael didn't reply, and Azrael asked, "Does it have to be right now? I'm keeping tabs on Trixie tonight while Chloe goes out." She paused, then added, "With  _Ella_." After taking another moment to decide that Michael could decide for himself where he stood on the whole discretion/valor line, she concluded, "And Mazikeen." Well, and Linda, too, of course, though Linda seemed the least likely of the four women to complicate this particular situation.

Michael regarded her with some confusion. "Why are you telling me this? And, yes, the pudding can wait."

Azrael sighed. "Brother, if you can't figure it out for yourself, I'm certainly not going to be the one to tell you."

Michael looked puzzled for another moment, and then his expression cleared. "Ah. Well. I, uh, see." He paused, then asked, "Will you be there?"

Azrael shook her head. "Watching Trixie, remember? Plus, I don't have a fake ID," she quipped. She could almost see the wheels turning in Michael's head: a chance to talk with the fascinating human without having to worry about his little sister interfering. "Don't forget Mazikeen," she prompted.

"I can handle the demon," Michael replied dismissively.

"In public?" Azrael asked, all innocence. "In front of plenty of humans, including Ella?"

Michael sighed in exasperation, then got to his feet. "I have to go," he muttered.

"Wait," Azrael said, and Michael turned "Do you need any money?" When her brother looked blankly at her Azrael clarified, "Currency. What the humans use to buy things."

"I know what money is, little sister," Michael replied, a flicker of irritation in his voice. "I'm just not sure why I'd need it."

Azrael exhaled a long sigh. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a wallet. Taking out a few bills, she offered them to Michael, explaining patiently, "If you go talk to Ella, offer to buy her a drink."

Michael looked blankly at the offered money. "But what if she's not thirsty?"

Azrael closed her eyes. "Dad, is this a test? Can he possibly be this -" She cut off her words, opened her eyes, and stuffed the bills into Michael's hand. "Just say, 'Can I buy you a drink?' and then, if she says yes, buy her a drink. If Mazikeen is there, ask Ella to go to another table. And whatever happens, be nice to Ella." There was a note of warning in her voice, but Michael, remembering that she would not always be in this body, didn't smile.

A little puzzled, Michael replied, "Of course I'll be nice to her." He frowned a little, then stuffed the money in his pocket. "Thank you," he said finally, turning to go.

Azrael called after Michael, "Is that what you're wearing?" and then stifled a laugh at his annoyed grunt. She waved brightly after him, though she sat forward to watch as Chloe and Trixie approached from the other direction. Looking flustered, Michael brushed past them while also trying to get a look at Chloe.

"Rae!" Trixie called, dashing the last several feet to plunk down next to Azrael on the bench. "That guy was weird," she added, leaning against her friend to peer after Michael.

"Tell me about it," Azrael agreed, though not without a smile.

Chloe turned back from her own study of Michael to ask Azrael, brows lifting, "Friend of yours?"

Azrael shook her head. "That," she replied, "Is my brother Michael."

Chloe looked after him once more. " _That_  Michael?" Azrael nodded. "Huh. I thought he'd be taller."

Trixie brightened. "Is he a -" She crossed her hands, linked her thumbs, and wiggled her fingers like wings, expression expectant.

Azrael nodded, still looking amused by Chloe's comment. "But he can't take you flying," she added, a note of apology in her voice.

Trixie sighed, but something that minor couldn't keep her down for long.

"What was he doing here?" Chloe asked. "C'mon, Monkey. Let's get inside."

Trixie hopped up obediently and Azrael climbed to her feet and followed the others into the apartment. "It's okay," she reassured. "He just came to chat. And I doubt he'll come back here tonight, not that he'd cause trouble. I mentioned that Ella was going to be out and about tonight, and he seemed interested in maybe going to talk to her. You might want to give Mazikeen a heads-up on that, though. Best not to let Michael catch her unaware."

Chloe snorted as she closed the door behind them. "You want me to tell my roommate, a demon, that your angel brother might crash girls' night? Yeah, no. You handle that one yourself."

"You'd be doing me a huge favor," Azrael wheedled. 

"Favors are Lucifer's thing, Rae," Trixie informed her in a sing-song as she dumped her backpack on the breakfast bar.

Azrael peered at her small friend, caught between amusement and exasperation. "Did Mazikeen tell you that?"

"Yep!" Trixie grinned. Curious, she asked, "Does Maze not like your brother?"

Chloe started with dinner prep and Azrael came around to help, washing her hands, selecting a knife and starting to chop vegetables for the salad. "They've never met, far as I know," Azrael replied, "but probably not."

"Because Maze is chocolate and your brother is vanilla?" Trixie asked artlessly, remembering the demon's cake analogy.

Azrael's knife paused in its motion. She took a breath and shot Chloe a look of profound amusement; the detective suddenly remembered - again - that, despite her size, this was no child next to her. "Yeah," Azrael agreed as she finished with the carrots, her knife-work quick and deft. "If Michael is anything, he's definitely vanilla."

Chloe made a face at Azrael. "Cute." She tasted the sauce, then rummaged for spices. She didn't have the time or energy for homemade, but could doctor Prego with the best of them. "So Michael, is he... interested in Ella?" she queried.

Azrael considered and rejected an onion, then took up the broccoli instead. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, Dad has certain rules about, um." She glanced at Trixie, who was listening intently, then added, "I think he's curious about her. Not sure how much interaction he's had with humans, but definitely not a lot."

"So he's probably not looking for..." Chloe lifted her eyebrows meaningfully.

Azrael looked over in time to catch the gesture. "I highly doubt it." She sighed. "I'd better let Mazikeen know." She set aside the knife and pulled out her phone, then, with a look of inspiration, fired off a text.

"Coward," Chloe murmured, earning herself an amused look from Azrael.

"The valiant never taste of death but once, but once is plenty," Azrael quipped, reaching for the knife. "Sometimes cowardice is -"

Her phone rang before she finished the grab for the knife. She winced at the ring tone - the Imperial March from  _Star Wars_  - and visibly considered not answering.

"Busted!" Trixie called, looking up from her backpack with a grin.

"Do you really want her tracking you down?" Chloe queried, amused by Azrael's hesitation.

Azrael sighed and accepted the call. "Yes?" she asked, keeping her voice as smooth as possible.

"Is this a present, Fun Size?" Maze asked brightly. "Is your brother Michael really going to cause trouble tonight?"

"That's not what I said," Azrael replied quickly, not without a trace of irritation for the nickname. "He might show up to talk to Ella, that's all. Trouble is highly unlikely. Mazikeen, please don't start anything."

Sounding a little disgusted, Maze replied, "Why not?"

"That whole not revealing yourselves to humans thing?" Azrael suggested, with taut patience.

Unconcerned, the demon replied, "That's your dad's rule. It doesn't apply to me. Plus, I can take Michael without revealing anything."

"Honestly, I almost want to know what would happen," Azrael said crisply. "Especially since it would shut up the both of you."

"Did he say something?" Maze demanded. "Does he think - hang on." A flash of violence and laughter sounded from Maze's end of the conversation. After a moment, punctuated by a few thumps and then swearing in a voice that was definitely not the demon's, Maze came back on the line. "Shut up! Not you, TD. Does your idiot brother actually think he can take me?"

Azrael offered mildly, "I could have called you back."

Maze exhaled a derisive huff, and Azrael could all but hear her smirk. "I don't need both hands to deal with this scumbag. Now. Your idiot brother."

"I don't think he'll start anything, Mazikeen," Azrael offered, conscious of Trixie's fascinated eyes on her as she spoke, of Chloe's silent attention. "He just might want to talk to Ella, that's all."

There was more scuffing noise and then the sound of a car door closing. "Fine.  _If_  Ella wants to talk to him even though the Tribe isn't about that, I won't do anything in public unless he tries something. But if he does, I'm absolutely finishing things. Are we clear?"

"We're clear. And that seems fair."

There was another thump from the demon's side of the conversation, and then the call ended.

"I always think she's going to be angry, and she almost never is," Azrael mused, taking up the knife and going back to the salad prep.

Chloe looked over, offering, "She's really grown." She stirred the spaghetti sauce, then asked, "We likely to run into trouble tonight?"

Azrael shook her head. "I doubt it, not from Michael. He can be a little obnoxious, especially to his siblings, but he'd never cause harm to come to a human. And Mazikeen said she won't start anything. If you're worried, go to Lux." Chloe looked like she was about to protest, and Azrael added, "Michael would be even less likely to try something on Lucifer's turf. Might not even show up." She reached for the cucumber, adding, "And if something does happen - which is highly unlikely - Lucifer has excellent liability insurance."

"That's not exactly reassuring, Rae," Chloe said dryly.

Azrael grinned as she assembled the salad. "Two not-nices and one not-reassuring today. Looks like we're going for a record. But if you do go to Lux, maybe give Lucifer a heads-up on the situation? Just in case."

Chloe nodded.

"Who said you're not nice?" Trixie demanded, offended on her friend's behalf.

"Lucifer and Michael, but it's okay," Azrael reassured. "They were kidding."

Dinner came together quickly and soon the trio was sitting around the table. Azrael closed her eyes and said a quick, silent grace, then looked up to see Trixie watching her curiously.

"You were saying thank you?" Trixie queried. When Azrael nodded, she clarified, "To your dad?" Azrael nodded again, and Trixie observed, "But he didn't make dinner. You and Mommy did, and I helped."

Azrael smiled as she dished up some pasta. "You and Lucifer, I swear. I'm grateful to your mom - and to you, too - but I thank my father because everything comes from him." Seeing Trixie frown a little, she added, "He made everything."

Trixie shook her head. "Mommy and Daddy made me," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Maze explained it all last week. I can tell you  _all_  ab- are you okay, Mommy?"

That, of course, was in response to Chloe all but choking on her drink as she imagined what details the demon could have given.

"She's fine," Azrael reassured, after a glance to make sure Chloe was, in fact, okay. "And you don't need to give me the sex talk, Trixie, but thanks. Probably shouldn't share that information on the playground, either."

"No," Chloe agreed, once she did regained her breath. "That's something kids should hear about from their moms or dads."

"Or their demons," Trixie added brightly, pouring somewhat more raspberry vinaigrette than necessary on her salad.

Chloe rubbed a hand across her forehead, but agreed, with a sigh, "Or their demons."

Trixie spiraled spaghetti onto her fork, but considered it before asking Azrael, "Should I thank your dad? For dinner?"

Azrael flicked a glance to Chloe, who shrugged. Azrael replied, "It's up to you. He won't get mad or anything if you don't."

Fork poised, sauce dripping onto the plate as well as the table, Trixie asked, "Would he like it if I said thank you?"

Azrael pursed her lips as she considered her answer, then went with the neutral, "In general, being polite is a good thing - definitely not always - but Dad... doesn't always hear."

Trixie nodded agreeably, then shouted at the ceiling, possibly thinking that volume would make it more likely that her words would be heard, "Thanks for dinner, Rae's dad!" Chloe shushed her, smiling, with a murmur about the neighbors. Trixie added at a slightly lower volume, though her words were still directed ceilingwards, "Can we have pizza tomorrow?"

Azrael, finally starting on her own meal, offered, "You might want to check with your own parents on that one. Dad doesn't tend to deal with the little details like that, even for people on reality TV - I still can't get over how many people seem to think he watches that stuff, as much as they ask him for help." She paused as she remembered the pudding she would be making and amended, a little sourly, "Usually."

Trixie swiped at the sauce on the table with her napkin, then asked, "What  _should_  I ask him for, if I need to ask Mommy about pizza tomorrow?" She turned big, brown eyes on her mother, who conceded a murmured "We'll see," to Trixie's delight. The girl stage whispered to Azrael, "That means yes."

Azrael took a long moment to chew her salad, having taken a particularly large bite. That earned her an amused look from Chloe, who was glad she wasn't fielding these questions. "Does you mom ever go soak in the bathtub, maybe with some music and some bubble bath?"

Chloe looked up to find herself regarded by two sets of brown eyes, one amused, one quizzical.

"No," Trixie replied.

"Ha, I'm not surprised." Azrael smiled at Chloe. "You should. It's nice." Turning back to Trixie, she added, "Okay, imagine if she did. Armageddon is nigh; your mother is relaxing - don't look at me like that, Chloe; you could relax if you tried hard enough. Though I guess having to work at it defeats the whole purpose." She grinned at the detective, who muttered something about Azrael sounding like Lucifer, then turned back to Trixie. "Would you want to interrupt her if you... I don't know, if you couldn't decide what shirt you wanted to wear tomorrow?" Trixie giggled and shook her head. "Okay, what if the house was on fire?" Trixie nodded emphatically. Azrael explained, "It's better to ask Dad about the bigger things, not the ones you can handle on your own."

"So G-god is in the tub?" Chloe asked, only stumbling a little on the name.

Azrael exhaled a soft sigh. "Well, it would explain a lot."

Trixie, apparently through with philosophy for the time being, offered brightly, "Mommy, I'll bet Rae hasn't ever had cotton candy ice cream. We should go get some after dinner." She spiraled the last of her spaghetti on her fork, then added, "With rainbow sprinkles!"

"Actually, Maze and I are going to meet up with Ella and Doctor Linda tonight, if Maze finishes catching her bad guy," Chloe replied. "So no ice cream tonight, Monkey."

"Pretty sure she caught him," Azrael murmured.

Looking a little disappointed, Trixie asked, "Is a babysitter coming?"

Shaking her head, Chloe replied, "No, you and Rae are going to be on your own." She did not miss the look of conspiratorial delight that Trixie sent to Azrael, and cautioned, "Trixie..."

"We'll be good," Trixie replied, too quickly.

"We will," Azrael repeated, somewhat more reassuringly. "Go get ready. We'll clean up."

Trixie looked briefly dismayed, but, already plotting her evening of fun, hopped up to clear her plate. "Wear something pretty!" she advised, before making her way into the kitchen.

Chloe regarded Azrael, who extended her hand for Chloe's plate. "Not always good to be polite?"

"Thought you caught that." Azrael accepted the plate with a shrug. "Your society teaches girls to be nice. Maybe it shouldn't."

Chloe couldn't argue with that. She watched Azrael follow Trixie into the kitchen, still not entirely sure that leaving was a good idea, but then took herself off to get ready.


	6. The Tribe Has Spoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girls' Night plus one, and a post-Trixie-sitting conversation.

Chloe, still fretting over what might be happening at home, made her way into the bar. Trixie had stopped her whispered urgings to Azrael to call a cheerful farewell to her mother; the angel, up to her elbows in dishes, hadn't waved, but had offered a reassuring smile before asking Trixie to grab a cloth and start drying.

Well. At least the dishes would be done. That was more than ever happened when Maze watched Trixie.

Chloe and Linda had decided over the phone that keeping a certain amount of distance between Lucifer and his brother was probably the wiser course, so they were at a smaller bar instead of Lux. Honestly, she preferred this quieter place, as it was easier to talk; the earlier parts of these get-togethers often turned into group therapy sessions, particularly when, as on this occasion, Maze arrived a little later than the humans.

Ella and Linda were already at a table; the tech smiled and waved to Chloe. Chloe made her way over to them, sitting next to Ella.

Linda looked over with some concern at Chloe's expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, handing over a drink.

"Nothing," Chloe replied quickly, though she took the drink with a murmur of thanks and downed a quick gulp.

"Right," Ella said, with amused skepticism. "What is it?"

Chloe sighed and took a smaller sip of her drink before replying, "Rae is watching Trixie tonight. I'm just worried that they might get into trouble."

Ella peered at her in some puzzlement. "You've got an angel watching your kid, and you're worried?"

"Okay, when you put it like that..." Chloe shook her head. "It's just that I'm pretty sure Trixie is going to try and convince Rae to do something they shouldn't."

Ella shook her head. "They'll be fine," she said brightly. "Look, the biggest issue is that you might come home to a kitchen full of baked goods. I mean, seriously, I think Rae is, like, a stress baker or something. I told her I had to start taking the cookies and stuff into the precinct, otherwise I'm going to grow out of all my clothes."

Linda chuckled. "So having an angel for a roommate is working out?"

Ella shook her head, saying, "Yeah, but it's a little strange sometimes. Older than humanity, sure, but there are things she doesn't get. Like, cinnamon rolls in a tube totally blew her mind. And we went out to eat earlier this week and they gave us one of those coaster things to call us when out table was ready. Rae was holding it, and she jumped about a foot when it started buzzing and all."

"See, and that's what I'm worried about," Chloe said with a sigh.

Linda peered at her in puzzlement. "Vibrating coasters?"

Ella queried, amazed, "You have that dream, too?" When she found herself the recipient of two curious looks, she said, "Apparently not. Okay, then! What's got you worried, Chloe?"

"That Trix is going to suggest something stupid and Rae will go along with it because it doesn't occur to her not to," Chloe replied, frowning. "I mean, she really likes making Trixie happy."

Linda observed shrewdly, "She'd rather Trixie be safe, and she values your trust. I really think they'll be fine, but if you feel like you need to go check on them, Chloe..."

Chloe shook her head. "No," she said, straightening. "No, they'll be okay. Angel, older than humanity... Rae can handle one little girl."

Ella stared at Chloe for a moment before asking, mostly in jest, "Seriously, don't you watch horror movies? You don't say stuff like that."

Chloe wrinkled her nose, though she had to concede the point.

Linda chuckled, then turned to Ella. "If you ever want to send any angelic baked goods my way, I can definitely find a home for them, particularly if they involve chocolate."

Ella nodded, with a quick smile. "Absolutely." She shook her head, her expression gone reflective, then added, "Seriously, everybody should come over for dinner sometime, because Rae can *cook*. I'm just glad she's footing the grocery bill, 'cause she has expensive taste. She's kicking in for rent, too, which is helping a lot. I didn't want to take her money, but then she showed me her balance online." The tech let out a low whistle. "I stopped arguing after that."

Linda offered, "She's had a while to let her investments build."

Ella nodded. "That's an understatement."

"She said you guys have been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Chloe said, looking amused.

"Yeah," Ella replied, bubbling with enthusiasm. "We're almost to the part where Dawn shows up. I can't wait to see her face! It's going to blow her mind!"

Linda and Chloe exchanged look of rather baffled amusement, and Ella launched into an animated explanation of that particular Buffy plot line, telling really far more than either of her table mates wanted to know. Chloe let the tech's words wash over her, nodding at appropriate intervals, though she occasionally scanned the bar.

"Maze is on the way," Linda said, setting aside her phone after checking a text

"Good. I need to have a little chat with her." Chloe glanced around the bar, then turned to Ella. "So Michael might come tonight, just so you know."

Ella looked blankly between the other women. "Michael? Michael who?"

"Lucifer and Azrael's brother," Linda supplied. She rubbed lightly at her temple, murmuring, "This is my life now. Random archangels might just... stop by. Sure. Totally normal."

" _That_  Michael?" Ella's eyes widened a little. "Why would he come here?" Linda and Chloe exchanged a look, then turned back to Ella. "To see me?" Lowering her voice, she said, "But he's a...  _you know_."

"Rae is a little confused about his intentions, too, if that makes you feel any better," Chloe offered.

Ella nodded, still looking puzzled. "Intentions? Like  _intentions_  intentions? I'm not really looking for anybody right now, even though Michael is interesting. I mean... angel, right? Archangel!" She shook her head, looking a little thrown, but faintly pleased as well.

"He might not even show up," Chloe reassured. "And if you don't want to talk to him, just say the word."

Ella smiled a little. "I didn't say that," she replied, pulling her drink closer. "I mean, how often am I going to get a chance like this?"

"More often than you might think, with this family," Linda murmured, making a face.

Chloe turned to Linda. "So we'll have to keep Maze from causing trouble - though she did tell Rae she wouldn't start anything."

Linda nodded, with a small frown. "She's just too good at ending things."

Ella leaned forward, trying to be casual as she surveyed the bar and not entirely succeeding. Seeing the other women's amused expressions, she settled back in her chair, intentionally focusing on her friends. "How was your day?" she asked, looking between Chloe and Linda.

Chloe sighed. "Lucifer  _would not_  stop talking about this barista from Beelzebean."

"Alex?" Maze queried, sliding into the seat next to Linda's. "Well, no wonder. I mean, come on, have you seen her butt?" The demon pursed her lips, apparently picturing the butt in question.

Chloe stared at Maze. "Is there some supernatural butt-radar you guys all have? Or maybe there's a new app you're are all on, for butt-ogling?

"No, but I would totally use that app," Maze replied, with a wink. "Did Michael show?"

"Not yet," Linda replied.

Turning to Ella, Maze said intently, "I can kick his ass for you if you want. Just say the word."

"Thanks," Ella replied, sounding honestly flattered. "I'm good, though."

Maze sighed, clearly disappointed, though she told Ella, "The offer's always open."

"There he is." Chloe's voice was low, but it caught her tablemates' attention; the other three turned to follow the direction of her gaze.

There was Michael, his posture uncertain until he spotted Ella and crossed to stand by their table. He'd changed his clothes, Chloe noticed with amusement, and was now wearing a dark green button-down. It looked nice on him, but Chloe decided that Lucifer had the better tailor.

"Hello." The angel shifted from foot to foot, hovering - figuratively - near Ella's elbow.

"Hi," Ella replied, with a bright grin. "Michael. Uh, this is Chloe and Linda, and I guess you know Maze?"

A certain hauteur flicked across Michael's face as he looked down upon the demon, the expression quick but noticeable if one was watching him, which Chloe was. "By reputation." He pulled on a smile to address the other two. "It's nice to meet you, after all that I've heard about you.

Maze exhaled a huff and pointedly ignored Michael.

Chloe and Linda exchanged glances, then the latter said, her voice carefully neutral, "You've heard of us?"

Michael nodded, replying vaguely, "There's quite the buzz upstairs." He turned back to Ella. "So. Uh. Can I buy you a drink?" He glanced briefly at Maze and then gestured to a table partway across the room. "Over there?"

The four women looked to the indicated table, then back to Michael.

"Why over there?" Maze queried, her voice heavy with suspicion.

Michael didn't quite look at her as he replied, "Azrael said I should ask Ella to go to another table if you were here. I think she's trying to prevent mayhem."

Maze sighed. "Spoilsport."

Michael actually appeared to agree with the demon. He didn't comment, instead turning to Ella, suddenly looking a little concerned. "Was it inappropriate to ask to buy you a drink. I thought Azrael was being sincere, but -"

"Totally inappropriate," Maze deadpanned, as Michael's eyes widened. "In fact, really offensive, so -"

"No, Rae's right," Ella interrupted, giving Maze a look of amused exasperation. Turning back to Michael, she added. "Seriously, dude, you're fine. It's totally appropriate."

Michael's right hand twitched at his hip as he looked at the demon, and Maze stiffened, her attention focusing on the angel. Slowly, he relaxed, and the demon settled back in her chair.

"That was too easy," Maze said smugly. "Seriously, did you see his face?"

Chloe, looking exasperated, muttered, "One of you just pee a circle around her already." At the twin looks of outrage from demon and angel, she couldn't help but smile, breaking into a laugh at Ella's embarrassed, "Jeez, Chloe."

The tech flicked a sudden, concerned look to the archangel at her near-blasphemy, but he didn't seem to take note of it.

Linda murmured to Maze, "Did Ella just call the Archangel Michael  _dude_?"

Maze replied, at somewhat louder volume, "Nicer than what I'd call him."

Michael shifted his gaze to the peanut gallery, brows lifting slightly. "Sorry," Linda murmured, though Maze responded only with a challenging stare, which Michael returned in kind.

"So that other table looks  _awesome_ ," Ella said firmly. "And a drink sounds great, thank you." And she headed toward the other table, apparently expecting Michael to follow, which, after maintaining eye contact with Maze for a moment longer, he did.

"Wimp," Maze said, though not too loudly. She watched the pair seat themselves at the other table. As Michael began to speak, too far away for them to hear, the demon adopted a rather nasal tone. "Hi, my name is Michael and I'm a giant tool."

"Maze," Linda reproved, though her lips curved despite herself.

"You're right," the demon agreed, smirking. "If Mikey-boy has any sort of tool, it's definitely not giant. I'm surprised it hasn't fallen off, 'cause you know he isn't using it."

"Maze," Linda repeated, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Have a drink."

Maze glanced at her. "C'mon, Linda," she wheedled. "Do Ella. Use your Dr. Feelgood voice. What's she saying to old Mikey-boy?"

Laughing, Linda shook her head. "Oh, no," she said, extending the vowels just a bit. "You're not dragging me into this, Maze. I don't have it in me to mock a celestial being."

"Aw, Linda -"

"Hey. Maze." The faint edge to Chloe's tone was enough to draw the demon's attention away from further attempts to get Linda to participate in her mockery. She'd spent enough time with Lucifer to pick up on his distractionary tactics, after all. "What's this about you telling my kid about sex?"

Maze made a short, derisive sound, though her gaze flicked back to Michael and Ella. "Why didn't you tell her already? She's old enough."

"I did," Chloe replied. "I mean, the basics. I didn't want her finding out about it on the internet. But you didn't have to give her... details. She said you told her all about it."

Maze sighed, a little exasperated, though she looked at Chloe rather than at Michael and Ella. "Let me guess what you told her - when a mommy human and a daddy human love each other very much..." Her voice took on a higher pitch and a saccharine tone.

"I don't sound like that," Chloe retorted, though without heat.

Lifting her eyes skyward, Maze challenged, "How do you think our conversation went, Decker?"

"I honestly don't know," Chloe replied, "But if you brought up sex swings, Maze, so help me..."

Relenting, Maze said, "Come on, Decker. You don't think I gave her, like, a blow-by-blow, do you?" She nudged Linda lightly, her expression saying,  _Do you see what I did there?_  and the therapist stifled a laugh. The demon concluded, more seriously, "I just answered her questions. There was a little about the mechanics. And we talked about how people saying that someone picking on her means they like her is bullshit; you don't want to be with someone who hurts you." She paused, her lips curling upward, "Well, unless you're into that. Relax, Decker," she added, laughing as Chloe started to protest. "I didn't say  _that_. She'll have to learn that one from the internet."

"Has that been an issue?" Chloe queried, suddenly concerned. "Boys in her class being jerks?" As Maze lifted a particularly judgmental eyebrow, Chloe amended, "Or girls?"

"No," Maze replied. "I would have told you, since I'm pretty sure you'd want to participate in that particular conversation. It was just hypothetical."

Chloe looked for a moment like she wanted to launch into full-on interrogation mode to find out what questions, exactly, Trixie had asked, but then shook her head. Trixie clearly hadn't been traumatized by the conversation, and Maze obviously wouldn't react well to interrogation, so she let it go, though not without a sigh. "I'll get the next round."

* * *

 Michael returned to the table with Ella's drink - she'd had to explain the process of going to the bar and getting it - looking a little dubious about the fruit garnish, or perhaps about the color. "Is it supposed to look like this?" he queried as he put the drink in front of the tech.

"Yeah, it's perfect, thanks," Ella replied, though she added, puzzled, "You didn't get anything for yourself?"

A flicker of relief crossed the angel's face, and then he shook his head. "My father has certain rules," he explained.

"But Lucifer drinks all the time," Ella said, brows furrowed.

"Well," Michael began, looking a little uncomfortable.

Ella's expression cleared. "Oh. Devil, right. The whole rebellious son thing. Got it." She pulled the garnish out of the drink and then glanced up with a small frown. "So God doesn't like drinking?"

"It's okay for mortals," Michael reassured. "Especially with Yeshua's ritual, he could hardly forbid it."

"Yeshua's... oh, communion, right. You could have gotten water or something, though," Ella said, with a quick smile. "There goes my line," she added. "I was going to ask if you come here often."

"This plane?" Michael replied blankly.

"No, bars," Ella replied. She slid the fruit off her swizzle stick onto a cocktail napkin, murmuring, "That wasn't awkward or anything."

But Michael was staring at the swizzle stick, which was shaped like a sword. "Your drink came with tiny weaponry," he said, clearly delighted. He glanced back toward the bar, as if weighing whether he would like to wait in line again just to get a small sword.

Ella nodded, smiling fondly. "Yeah, my littlest niece is obsessed with them. I bought her a whole box for her last birthday and you should have seen her face." Catching sight of Michael's expression, she extended the small, blue sword. "Here, take it."

Michael hesitated, though he clearly wanted to accept. "I'd hate to deprive your niece."

"Please," Ella replied, her hand still extended. "My brother is so sick of these things. Honestly," she admitted, with a quick grin, "half of the fun of giving them to her is that it annoys him."

"You're speaking of an older brother, yes?" Michael queried. When Ella nodded, laughing, he took the sword. "Then thank you, and I'm glad to spare your brother this trial." His tone made it clear that he knew all about the tribulations of younger sisters.

"Aw, come on," Ella said with a smile. "Rae's a sweetheart."

With an agreeable shrug, Michael replied, "To you, perhaps. But she has had millenia to perfect the art of tormenting her elders."

Still looking amused, Ella said, "Well, I'll be sure to tell my brother who spared him further plastic swords - actually, maybe not. It might be a little too much for him. I mean, he believes, but..." She gestured at Michael.

His expression understanding, Michael replied, "It can be a bit overwhelming to come face to face with your faith, say over drinks?" He paused, took in the table and the lone beverage, and amended, "Drink."

"Yes!" Looking a little relieved, Ella said, "I mean, I have so many questions. I don't want to ask Lucifer because of the whole rebellion thing, and Rae seems to be struggling a little with her task, and I don't want to add to that, but, well, here you are." She took a breath, bringing her ramble to an end as she regarded the angel.

"Here I am," Michael agreed softly.

"Why  _are_  you here?" Ella thought to ask. "I mean, not that I mind or anything, but it's a little weird."

Michael frowned over his answer. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. Then he brightened a little as he thought of a reason for his presence. "But I wanted to tell you that Yeshua is arranging for me to get a... that curved weapon." His hand moved briefly, but he did not complete any apparently-suggestive gestures.

"A bat'leth?" Ella queried, full of enthusiasm. "Dude, that is so great! I mean, I can't use one, but I'll bet you can, right?

"Bat'leth," Michael repeated, nodding. "And, well, I haven't tried, but I assume I'll be able to get the way of it. I've used many mortal weapons."

Ella murmured under her breath, "This is really weird." Raising her voice, she added, "Which was your favorite?"

"It depends on the use," Michael replied, warming to his subject. "For fun, the naginata."

"Oh," Ella brightened. "Like Nakano Takeko."

Looking pleased, Michael said, "You've heard of her?"

Nodding, Ella replied, "I saw this documentary on her life. The way she had her sister cut off her head, so her enemies wouldn't take it as a trophy... she was a total badass." She winced a little, adding, "Language... sorry."

Michael waved a hand dismissively. "It's accurate. The thing about the naginata is..." He looked prepared to go on at length about the pole weapon, then reined himself in, a bit sheepish. "But I can go on about weaponry. I don't think that's the sort of question you were hoping I would answer."

Ella grinned. "It's interesting, but, no, not really." When Michael gestured that she should continue, she looked a little overwhelmed for a moment, then blurted, "Is there chocolate in Heaven?"

* * *

 "Okay, she's been over there long enough," Maze said irritably. She started to rise, but Linda put her hand on the demon's arm.

"Give her a few more minutes," Linda urged.

Maze exhaled an annoyed sigh. "Why should I?"

"Didn't you tell Rae you wouldn't start anything?" Chloe queried.

"I just don't know what she sees in him," Maze muttered, ignoring Chloe's question.

Linda studied the pair. "They seem to be friendly enough."

"Michael's an asshole," Maze retorted. "Ella  _shouldn't_  like him." Turning to Linda, she challenged, "I  _know_  Lucifer's brought him up in therapy."

Chloe looked over with interest; sighing, Linda replied, "You know I can't talk about that, Maze."

The demon turned to Chloe, saying firmly, "That means yes," and for a moment the detective was reminded of her daughter using that exact phrase, earlier in the day. There really were similarities, she decided, between the demon and the eight year-old. No wonder they got along so well. 

Chloe looked over at the angel and the tech, then back to Maze. "Would you like me to go see if she'll come back over here?" she asked, trying not to sound like she was humoring the demon and not entirely succeeding.

Maze gave Chloe a suspicious look. "Yes," she replied, her voice just a little sharp.

Chloe got to her feet and made her way to the table. Michael appeared to be in the middle of an animated story, which Ella was listening to with all apparent fascination, but he broke it off to greet Chloe, "Hello, detective."

Chloe didn't understand the sudden surge of wrongness she felt at Michael's greeting. She had come to associate that particular title with Lucifer; the angel's intonation was similar to his brother's, but just off enough to worm its way under her skin. Chloe couldn't entirely keep her irritation out of her manner as she asked Ella, "You guys about done here?"

Ella, picking up on Chloe's manner, looked a little puzzled, and cast a quick glance back to Maze and Linda. The therapist offered a small finger-wave, while the demon just smirked, mouthing something that Ella didn't quite catch, but that she assumed involved either sex or violence. "Yeah, I guess so," Ella replied.

Michael looked over to the other table as well, a certain set to his jaw that Chloe recognized from Lucifer at his most stubborn. "This is coming from that demon -" he started, clearly meaning to insult Maze but Chloe didn't let him continue.

"No," she said sharply. "This is coming from  _our friend Maze_ , who is feeling a little annoyed that you interrupted girls' night. And maybe she's not the only one."

"I didn't realize -" Michael began stiffly, but Chloe again interrupted.

"That's fine, we get that, but when you start throwing around your celestial prejudices, that's not okay," the detective said flatly.

Ella, apparently agreeing with Chloe, got to her feet and moved to stand next to the detective. "Maze has my back," she said, without apology. "And I have hers."

Chloe slung her arm around Ella - apparently she was feeling the alcohol just a bit - and the pair made their way back to Linda and Maze.

"Did you have fun?" the therapist asked.

"Yeah," Ella admitted. "But I'll have more fun now."

When Chloe glanced over her shoulder, Michael was gone.

* * *

 Chloe stepped quietly into her apartment. The television flickered, though the sound was low and the picture showed the menu for Kiki's Delivery Service, as if the movie had already played through. Seeing the pale bundle on the couch, she crossed around to see Trixie sound asleep, sprawled with her head on Azrael's chest and enfolded in the angel's wings. Azrael blinked at her, looking as if she had just woken, and there was a soft, familiar snick of metal on metal.

"Hey," Azrael greeted softly. "Sorry. Thought you were Mazikeen."

"Maze didn't want the night to end just yet; I think she found some company." The sound registered, and Chloe surged forward. "Do you have a knife?" she hissed. Azrael made a gesture, half nod, half shrug. "And you were going to stab my roommate? With my kid in the room?"

"Please," Azrael replied with a touch of scorn, and Chloe relaxed, but only for a moment, as Azrael continued, "In this body? I'm not fast enough to get close enough to her, but after the workout we had yesterday, she'd kick my ass next time if I didn't at least make an attempt. I'd like as few bruises as possible."

Chloe groaned. Here, in fact, was a prime example of what she'd worried would happen. "Seriously, Rae? No. No knives. Not around Trixie."

Azrael studied her for a moment, then conceded, "Your kid, your rules. But you're wasting a valuable resource. Maze would get a kick out of training her, and she'd be far nicer to Trixie than she is to me."

Chloe sighed. "Rae -" she began.

"It doesn't even have to be knife-work," Azrael persisted.

"Look, Rae -"

"I just want her to be safe." Azrael didn't meet Chloe's gaze, and her wings settled more closely around the little girl.

Perching on an arm of the couch, Chloe asked, "Hey, do you know something you're not telling me?"

Azrael shook her head, lifting her brown eyes. "No. Or, well, yes, I know a lot of things I'm not telling, most of which you wouldn't care to know. Older than humanity means lots of knowledge that's pretty much useless in the here-and-now, like how many obols make a drachma. But nothing that would suggest that Trixie  _needs_  that sort of training. I just... I don't know. I'm paranoid. Sorry."

Chloe smiled. "Don't be sorry for wanting Trixie to be safe. Maybe I'll talk to Maze about it."

Azrael nodded. "Thanks. Now, if you wouldn't mind?" She disappeared her wings, and Trixie grumbled in her sleep. "She crashed during the movie, and I knew I'd never get her to bed without waking her."

Chloe smiled. "She's getting a little big for me to manage, too. Thanks for getting her in her pajamas, though. That simplifies things." Still, manage she did. After getting Trixie settled in bed, she came back to find Azrael still on the couch, though the television had been turned off. The kitchen, she noted, was cleaner than it had been that morning. She investigated a Tupperware on the counter. "Cookies?" she asked, amused.

"Brownies," Azrael replied. "With peanut butter chips in them. Homework's done, and I'll replace the vase we broke. Trixie said it wasn't an heirloom or anything." Noting Chloe's raised eyebrows, she added, just a bit defensively, "I knocked it over. I didn't realize I was ticklish, okay? Please don't tell Lucifer. He'd never let me live it down."

"No problem," Chloe replied, biting back a smile. It occurred to her to ask, her expression sobering, "Older than humanity, and you didn't realize you were ticklish?"

Azrael shrugged. "Nobody tried to tickle me before." Catching sight of Chloe's face, she sighed. "Oh. I see what Lucifer means about the whole pity thing. Don't, okay? My family's messed up by human standards, I get it." She paused then amended, "By any standards. Not being tickled, in the grand scheme of things, is small potatoes."

Chloe considered that and nodded. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed, though not without a sigh. "Anything else happen tonight?"

Azrael nodded, her quick smile holding an edge of relief that Cloe was letting the subject drop, "Yes. Your daughter is extremely persuasive, but I chose not to let her use Kool-Aid to dye my wings. She may complain about that tomorrow."

Laughing, Chloe said, "What, you don't want pink wings?"

"No," Azrael replied firmly. "I also wouldn't enjoy smelling of fruit punch every time I flew, thank you very much." She took a deep breath and approached the elephant in the room. "So what happened?"

"Michael came," Chloe replied, and Azrael sat up a little straighter. Chloe reassured, "Nobody started anything." She recapped the evening, though she left out the bit at the end where Linda ended up having to make sure Ella got home all right, as the tech had had more pina coladas than perhaps had been entirely wise. "Maybe," she concluded, "Sending your brother wasn't the best idea."

"Maybe not," Azrael agreed, her expression troubled. "Is Ella okay?"

Chloe nodded. "It's not easy to see one of the paragons of your religion being a jerk, but she's fine."

Looking thoughtful, Azrael asked, "Was Michael angry? He wouldn't do anything to any of you - well, not you humans, and Mazikeen can take care of herself - but I'd rather know if I should watch my back."

Chloe considered her answer. "Annoyed, but not angry. Kind of like we'd taken his toy away."

"That," Azrael said wryly, "Is likely a disturbingly accurate description."

"Detective," Chloe replied, with a smile and a small shrug. She made her way over to the Tupperware and took out a brownie, then lifted her eyebrows in inquiry, turning to Azrael. When the girl murmured a negative, Chloe took a bite of the brownie and mumbled, "This is amazing," then said, "Is this a good time to ask you about the knife?"

Azrael smiled faintly, with a murmur of thanks, then exhaled a small sigh. "Do you have any alcohol?" Catching sight of the detective's lifted eyebrows, she made a face. "Older than humanity," she said, with emphasis. "You know I'm not a kid; you're not actually contributing to the delinquency of a minor." When Chloe looked unlikely to oblige, she added, "Just one drink. Trixie's asleep and won't see, and I might need it to get through this." She hesitated a moment, then added softly, "Look, I get that it's unhealthy behavior, using alcohol as a crutch. I don't do it often. Please."

Chloe folded her arms over her chest, the impact of the posture somewhat negated by the brownie she still held, and gave Azrael a long look. The angel's expression was serious and a little pained. "Fine," Chloe said, getting to her feet. She returned with two glasses of amber liquid, passing one over to the angel. "This feels so wrong," she muttered.

Azrael smiled. "Thanks," she said, taking a mouthful of the drink with no apparent enjoyment, but rather as one would take a dose of medicine. "So. The knife is known as Azrael's Blade, though I tend not to call it that, obviously. My father gave it to me when he made me the Angel of Death. I was... rather young, as these things go, for such responsibilities."

Seeing Azrael hesitate over her words, Chloe asked quietly, "What's so special about it, Rae?"

Azrael took a deep breath, considered the level of her drink, and asked, "Did Luci tell you about our brother Uriel?"

Chloe nodded, looking troubled. "He could sense patterns, and he was going to kill your mom and me, and Lucifer -"

"Yeah," Azrael interrupted, her voice tight. "Good. We're on the same page. Lucifer used my blade to kill Uriel. When it takes a life, that being is destroyed. No soul to go to Heaven or Hell."

"So your brother is dead... permanently?" Chloe asked, her hand tightening around her own glass. "And all those people at the yoga studio?"

Azrael nodded rather grimly. "Yes." She took a deep breath and rationed a small sip of her drink. "What you don't understand is that my blade, it... wants to be used. I've had time to develop a certain resistance to it, over the years. Luci didn't stand a chance, especially not in that situation. And when the humans got hold of it, well, we're lucky the death count wasn't far higher. If Lucifer hadn't taken my blade, it would have been."

Frowning, Chloe asked, "What do you mean, it wants to be used? Isn't that dangerous?"

"It gets in your head," Azrael explained quietly. "It whispers. It's hard to explain," she admitted. "You'll forgive me if I don't offer to let you try it out, even if I knew where it was. And, yes, it's dangerous."

Chloe stared at her. "Wait, this horribly powerful weapon, and you don't know where it is? Who does?"

"Lucifer," Azrael replied lightly. "Chloe, I can't touch it in this form. I did once, and it... it remembered me. It didn't want me to put it down." She frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe, with Uri, it... it knew that he shouldn't have it, and that's why it turned on him."

"This is really creepy, Rae," Chloe said bluntly. "Like, horror-movie-level creepiness."

"Tell me about it," Azrael muttered.

Chloe frowned. "How did it even get down here without you?"

Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand, the other clutching her drink. "I made a mistake. Uri knew I didn't take my blade to Hell. I didn't want to risk it ending up in a demon's hands." Seeing Chloe bristle a little, she said flatly, "Remember how much Maze has changed in her time here. And there are demons in Hell with far less... restraint. It would be a disaster." She sucked in a gulp of air and then slowly exhaled before saying, "Uri knew my schedule, knew when it would be unattended, and he took it. He was worried about what Mom might do, and decided to take things into his own hands. It... didn't work out well for him."

"No," Chloe agreed quietly. "Was this the first time it's been used?"

Azrael nodded. "I am," she said slowly, "Very glad that I wasn't in possession of it when Lucifer rebelled against our father."

"You think he might have asked you to kill Lucifer?" Chloe queried, outraged.

Azrael was quiet for a long moment. "I'd like to think not," she said softly, her voice husky. "I'd like to think he wouldn't have been so cruel. I was quite young, for an angel, and Lucifer and I were close." She shook her head, a short, sharp gesture, then drained the last of her drink with a grimace. Turning a steady gaze on the detective, she queried, "Any more questions?"

Chloe studied the girl: she looked tired and drawn and unhappy. The questions about what had happened at the science museum, she decided, could wait. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

Azrael nodded. "I'm going to sleep down here, if it's all right with you. I'm accustomed to couches by now, and I think I'd rather not share with Trixie tonight." With the smallest of smiles, she added, "She steals the covers, and she's had enough time to take full possession of them by now."

"There's Maze's room," Chloe offered. "I doubt she'll be back tonight."

That sparked a slightly larger smile. "Thank you, but no. I'd rather not find out what would happen if she did come back, and found me asleep in her bed."

Chloe nodded, with a wry smile of acknowledgment. "I'll get some pillows and stuff."

When she returned, Azrael was still in the same spot, though she was looking a little forlorn, one hand gripping a small stuffed monkey that Trixie must have left. "Come on," Chloe offered, after a moment of consideration. "My bed is bigger than Trixie's, and I don't steal the covers." Azrael brightened a little, but still hesitated, obviously wanting to ask something. "What?" Chloe asked.

"Do you really snore like an Albanian field wench?" The question was utterly deadpan, but Azrael's eyes glinted with mirth.

The  _thunk_  of the pillow hitting the face of the former Angel of Death, Chloe reflected, was profoundly satisfying.

* * *

Chloe stirred in the middle of the night, feeling the bed move as Azrael shifted. "Y'okay?" she mumbled, mom-instincts kicking in despite the knowledge that Azrael wasn't actually a child.

"Can I tell Lucifer?" Azrael's voice was quiet, but she sounded fully awake, despite the hour.

Chloe yawned and tried to find a little more alertness. "Tell him what?"

"That I ended up in your bed before he did?"

Chloe counted to ten. Twice. "Good night, Azrael."

A very soft laugh sounded from the girl. "Good night, Chloe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's Google rabbit hole: Six obols make a drachma. Obols were used primarily in ancient Greece and Rome to pay Charon, who was the ferryman who carried souls to the afterlife. Never say fanfic isn't educational.


	7. A Suitable Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maze returns from her night out and makes an interesting discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is thanks to Aeshna_cyanea, who gave me the plot bunny that led to it and turned what was going to be this chapter into the next two chapters.
> 
> I will get to the pudding eventually, I swear!

Mazikeen stalked into her apartment some hours before dawn, annoyed. Normally she didn't misjudge potential bedmates, but she had this evening. She'd gotten a little creative - really, nothing too far out of the ordinary, at least not for her - and the human had freaked out, and Maze just hadn't felt like dealing with it, so she'd left.

It was, she decided, Lucifer's stupid brother's fault. Just being in his dorky, obnoxious presence had clearly thrown her off her game. Still, the evening hadn't been an entire loss. She'd gotten to watch Ella turn her back on the angel and walk away to come back to  _her_ , a demon.

Maze would remember the dumbstruck look on that idiot angel's face for a very long time.

Pausing by the couch, she noted the absence of Chloe's weird pink vase from a nearby table and made a mental note to ask Trixie where it had gone. If the little human had broken it, Maze could probably figure something out before her mom noticed.

Detouring over to the breakfast bar, she opened the Tupperware and helped herself to a brownie, letting the lid rest lightly against the container.

The demon made her way upstairs, leaving a trail of brownie crumbs in her wake. She looked in on Trixie, who mumbled something in her sleep about fruit punch, then paused as she passed Chloe's room.

Was that two sets of breathing she heard?

Had Chloe picked up someone at the bar after she had left? Had the detective finally gotten laid? Unable to believe her ears, Maze readied a knife, just in case, and nudged the door open with her shoulder, her other hand being still occupied by the nearly-finished brownie.

"You have  _got_  to be kidding me," she muttered, upon seeing just who was in bed with Chloe. After all, if there was anyone less likely to get laid than Chloe Decker, it was an angel.  _Well_ , she amended smugly, thinking of Amenadiel,  _Most angels_.

Well, and Lucifer, though she didn't think of him as an angel, not really.

Maze popped the last bit of brownie into her mouth and surveyed the scene. Azrael lay curled on her side, wearing an oversized shirt. With a quick glance about the room, Maze found the angel's clothing folded neatly in a pile - of course - and a knife tucked into a boot. Really, she thought, Azrael should know better than to leave her weapon out of reach. She appropriated the little knife, tucking it into her waistband; she'd return it at some suitable interval. Maybe.

Azrael had kicked off her covers sometime in the night and, perhaps seeking warmth, lay just inches from Chloe, her arm flung over the woman's waist. Still, even in slumber she held herself back just a bit. She looked even younger than her body, her face relaxed and softened by sleep.

Chloe, sprawled on her back, snored lightly, apparently oblivious to or unconcerned by Azrael's nearness.

Maze tucked away her own knife, as it was obviously not needed, and pulled out the weapon most suited for the moment: her phone. She snapped several pictures and then, utterly gleeful, texted them to Lucifer.

Her phone vibrated in her hand after just a moment, and she slipped into the hallway to answer it.

"You staged that," Lucifer accused.

Maze cackled, imagining the look on Lucifer's face. "Nope," she replied brightly, popping that final consonant in mocking imitation of the Devil. "They were like that when I got here."

Sounding honestly offended, Lucifer said, "Well, really, how much did the Detective drink tonight?"

"Not that much," Maze answered, with a low chuckle. "She was pretty much sober when I left. Though," she recalled, "There were two glasses on the table downstairs."

"That's it," Lucifer decided. "My sister got the Detective drunk." Hearing Maze's amused snort, he asked, "You don't think so?"

Maze shook her head, not that the Devil could see her. "What do you think happened in there?" Hearing Lucifer flounder for words, she agreed, "Exactly. Fun Size is too much of a goody-two-shoes to even  _think_  about sex, let alone try anything, and even Chloe isn't desperate enough to hit on your sister."

"Rae's getting better, though," Lucifer offered, coming to his sister's defense. "She noticed Alex's butt."

"A corpse would notice Alex's butt," Maze retorted, though not without a reflective smile. She would, she decided, have to make a coffee run after she got some sleep.

Lucifer quipped, "Brings new meaning to the term  _rigor mortis_ , am I right?" He made a soft, amused sound, clearly pleased with his own cleverness, then apparently remembered that he was offended. "But, really," he added, a note of complaint in his voice, "Find out what happened, Maze."

Maze looked back into the room. "Oh, I will," she replied, before ending the call.

She smiled. It was a pleasant expression only in the sense that the demon was pleased.

* * *

Azrael found herself jolted into alertness by the speed of her passage down the hallway, or possibly by the thump of her landing onto the couch, though at least it was on a soft surface. "What?" she managed.

"Time to get up," came a too-cheerful voice, and Azrael groaned.

"Mazikeen really?" Azrael's yawn was wide enough that her jaw ached for a moment. "What couldn't wait till morning?" Frowning, she asked, "Is Lucifer okay? Did something happen?"

"He's fine." The demon plunked next to Azrael on the couch, just close enough for discomfort. "What were you doing in Decker's bed?"

Azrael groaned. "Seriously? You got me out of bed for that? I was sleeping," she replied with feeling. "Finally. What else would I be doing?"

Maze slung an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Well," she said expansively, "If you haven't figured that out by now, do I have a story for you."

Azrael twitched under the demon's arm, but didn't try to escape; she knew that attempt would not prove successful. "You're the second person today - is it still today? - to try to explain sex to me, and the other one was Trixie."

Maze smiled proudly at the news about Trixie. "Good for her," she murmured.

"And Ella tried, too, that one time," Azrael continued blearily. "Is there something about my face that makes people want to talk to me about genitalia?" She realized what she'd said and shook her head, all but forcing herself to a semblance of alertness. "Please don't answer that."

Maze smirked. "You know my version of the sex talk would be the best, though."

Azrael cast a quick, sidelong look at the demon. "Yes," she agreed, looking amused. "The question is whether or not I would perish from embarrassment."

"Oh, I'd let you live," Maze replied, finally released the girl. Azrael sank back against the couch, and Maze asked, "So how did you end up in Chloe's bed?"

Azrael didn't answer, instead getting to her feet and moving to pick up the glasses from earlier.

"Come on, Fun Size," Maze teased. "You know you want to tell me."

"No," Azrael replied as she headed for the sink. "I really don't."

Maze trailed behind Azrael, boosting herself to sit on the breakfast bar, booted feet swinging aimlessly. "Lucifer thinks that Decker agreed to it because you got her drunk."

Azrael turned on the water with a sharp, annoyed jerk of her wrist. "Of course I didn't get -" The demon's words registered, and she reached deliberately to turn off the water before twisting to face the demon. "You told Lucifer?" she accused,

Azrael and Lucifer, Maze decided, got the exact same tone of voice when she annoyed them. Clearly this called for further experimentation.

"No, I didn't," Maze replied. Seeing Azrael's look of utter disbelief, she displayed her phone and added, unrepentant, "I sent pictures."

"What did you send him?" Azrael lunged for the phone, a tactical error on her part; Maze, atop the counter, had the higher ground and easily held the phone out of the girl's reach in a taunting game of keep-away. Maze's derisive laugh at the angel's frustrated expression only poured salt into the girl's wounds.

"I can just fly up there and get it," Azrael asserted.

"Go ahead." With a gesture, Maze drew Azrael's attention to their tight quarters. "Your wings will trash the kitchen and the noise will wake up Chloe and Trixie."

Azrael sighed, seeing the truth of Maze's words. Worse, Chloe and Trixie would wake frightened, not something she wished for either of them. She turned - not putting her back to the demon, never that - but not before Maze saw her rather abashed expression.

"You did that, didn't you?" she asked, delighted. "Broke something with your wings. But what happened?" Azrael remained stubbornly silent, and Maze continued reflectively, "Did they just pop out? It used to happen to Lucifer back in Hell, when we first started having sex -"

"I so did not need to know that," Azrael muttered.

"- but it stopped once he got used to all this," Maze continued as if Azrael hadn't spoken, gesturing to herself to indicate just what had given Lucifer cause to lose control over his wings. She tucked her phone rather ostentatiously into her cleavage, giving Azrael a challenging look, then hopped down from the breakfast bar to circle the angel. "So it must be something new. What?"

Azrael turned in place, keeping an eye on the demon. "I'm not telling you," she replied, steadfastly ignoring the phone and its new location. "You'd just use it against me."

"True," Maze agreed. She smiled. She knew Trixie would tell her, so she let the question go unanswered.

Azrael, not feeling at all reassured by Maze's smile - as well she shouldn't - looked rather suspicious as the demon backed off and leaned against the breakfast bar. Azrael risked a glance at the phone - or, rather, at the phone's location.

"Go ahead," Maze said, seeing the direction of the girl's gaze. "You can see exactly what I sent to Lucifer. You just have to get the phone."

Azrael turned aside, irritated. "Why would you send him pictures like that?" she demanded.

"Demon," Maze replied with pride. She had guessed, of course, that Azrael wouldn't try for the phone. Pity.

"Demon," Azrael echoed softly, in obvious agreement. She went back to the sink and turned the water on once more.

"Aw, come on," Maze said engagingly. "You're not mad."

Azrael took a moment to wash the glasses, taking care to dry them before putting them away. "No," she agreed, her voice small and distant, her diction precise. "I'm not mad."

"Ooh, you're lying," Maze needled gleefully.

"I'm not lying," Azrael retorted as she started to rummage in the cabinets. "I'm tired and cranky because some demon hauled me out of a sound sleep and badgered me about the reason I was in bed, which was  _sleep_. Obviously!" Realizing that her volume had increased, and was approaching an inappropriate level for the sleepers in the apartment, Azrael closed her mouth tightly and pulled a bag of flour and a mixing bowl from various cupboards.

"So go back to bed," Maze suggested, her tone implying the 'duh'.

Azrael counted under her breath as she measured the flour into the bowl, adding other ingredients as she spoke. "I'm tired, but now I'm not sleepy."

"I could wear you out," the demon offered, with a sly smile. Seeing Azrael's startled expression, she laughed, teasing, "Training, that's what I meant. What did you think I was talking about? Your mind's in the gutter. Some angel you are."

That got a flicker of a smile from Azrael. "Oh, yes. Your helpful suggestion was entirely innocent."

Maze leaned back against the breakfast bar, idly watching. "So, all those years flying around here, and you never had sex? Really?"

Azrael did not pause in her assembly. "Really," she agreed.

"Well, why not?" Maze considered the girl. "I mean, not in this body, obviously, but your usual one is pretty hot, and I know you used to hang out with the humans."

Starting to mix the dough with her hands, Azrael shook her head. "Rules, Mazikeen," she replied, with the barest hint of a sigh.

"Rules," the demon echoed, a hint of disbelief in her tone. "You break the rules all the time. You've been drinking in Hell for hundreds of years, and I know Daddy doesn't like that."

"Don't call him  _Daddy_ ," Azrael protested, making a face. "That's just... ew. And, yeah, I break little rules. I mean, the whole showing my wings thing wasn't my fault. Mostly not. Except for Ella, and by that time..." Azrael shook her head, adding, "And drinking doesn't hurt anybody but me."

Maze's lips curved. "Sex doesn't hurt, either, not with the right partner. Well, unless you want it to."

Azrael wrinkled her nose as she cleaned the counter and then turned out the dough onto it. "Ew," she protested, though it was obviously a response to the demon's words. She considered the height of the counter and her own height, then sighed and disappeared down the hall.

"It's the opposite of  _ew_ , TD," Maze called after her, sounding a little smug. "Trust me on this one."

Azrael returned carrying Trixie's stool from the bathroom. Her expression daring Maze to comment, she put down the stool and stood on it. With the leverage of her increased height, she started to knead the dough.

Maze smirked, but didn't say anything, instead watching Azrael work for a few minutes. "Seriously," she said finally, "All those years you spent hanging out with the humans, and you never wanted to do the deed with any of them?"

"Never said that," Azrael replied, her eyes glinting as she glanced at Maze.

"What?" For once, Azrael had managed to surprise Maze, and it showed. The demon was at Azrael's side in one stride. "Seriously? Who? What happened? Come on, spill."

"It was a long time ago," Azrael replied, expertly working the dough. Feeling the demon's gaze on her, guessing that Maze wasn't going to let this go without getting some dirt, she looked over with a smile, clearly a little embarrassed. "We're really doing this?"

Maze looked amused. "Story time? Yeah. I could go first, if you want. The last time Lucifer and I had sex, he did the most amazing thing with his -"

"Wait!" Azrael looked as if only the dough clinging to her hands was preventing her from sticking her fingers in her ears. "I'll go." Doing her best to ignore both the rising color in her cheeks and the demon's smirk, she got a second bowl and greased it, turning the dough into the bowl. "It was a long time ago..."

"You said that." Maze folded her arms across her chest, clearly enjoying watching Azrael squirm. When it looked as if the angel wasn't going to continue, she said, "And the  _stamina_  on your brother. I mean, he's obviously got all the moves, not to mention creativity, but -"

This time, Azrael couldn't form words, instead making an inarticulate sound of protest. "Fine," she managed. "It was -"

"So help me, if you say 'a long time ago,' I am going to hurt you." While the threat wasn't an idle one, Maze's tone was amused enough not to elicit outright alarm in Azrael.

"- in Sumer," Azrael finished.

Maze groaned. "That long ago? Talk about a dry spell."

"I did say a long time ago," Azrael quipped. She washed her hands and threw a cloth over the bowl. "He was an artisan."

"Knew how to use his hands," Maze approved, with a lascivious smile. "Nice."

Expression gone a little exasperated, Azrael asked, "Are you going to keep interrupting me?" Maze settled back against the breakfast bar and folded her arms across her chest, waiting. "There'd just been a plague, and so I'd been busy, but I knew things would slow down, so I went to see him."

Curious, Maze asked, "Was that the plague with the pustules or the one with the - okay, okay, I'll stop."

"Thank you." Azrael started a pot of coffee, silent as she went through the motions of the task, and for once Maze didn't push. "I'd had my eye on him for a while, something about his shoulders, and I just..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes gone distant.

When Azrael didn't speak, Maze snapped her fingers, drawing the angel's attention to back to the present. "So, what, you hopped into the sack with him?"

"No. You know I haven't..."

Maze let out a low chuckle. "Maybe you need the sex talk after all. There's plenty you can do in bed that's not sex... well, depending on how you define it. Hell, you don't even need a bed - you know that much, right?"

" _Yes_." Her cheeks flaming, Azrael flicked a glance toward the door, as if considering fleeing the conversation, then visibly remembered that she was only wearing that oversized shirt.

"C'mon, tell me you at least kissed the guy." When Azrael nodded, Maze crowed, "All right! Now we're talking. What happened next?"

Azrael exhaled a soft sigh. "Thunder. Lightning." Maze looked skeptical, and Azrael said, "Seriously. I didn't know if it was my father sending me a warning or my brother Raziel messing with my head, or... just a storm. But it scared me, and I backed off, left town, got back to work."

"Ran off when things got tough," Maze translated. Seeing Azrael's irritated look, she shrugged. "It's a family trait.

Azrael protested, "I kept worrying that it was Dad. I didn't want him to get all... vengeful. He was annoyed, because of Mom and the plague, and sometimes he just... I mean, remember Job?"

"Lucifer got the rap for that one, too," Maze commented. "You know he wasn't involved, right?"

Azrael nodded. "Yeah. He was just the scape..." She realized what she was saying, shrugged, and finished, her lips curving upward, "... goat."

Maze echoed the smile. "Ha. But, really, that's it? One kiss, in all this time?"

Azrael poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip before nodding. "Unless you count a peck on the cheek from a twelve year-old boy in a church hall, yeah." She gestured toward the coffee, adding, "Want some?"

"Doesn't count," Maze judged. She pondered the coffee, then shook her head. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll hit Beelzebean later."

Azrael made a face. "Oh, you're going to bed? How lovely for you. Hope nobody, say, wakes you out of a sound sleep or anything."

Maze smirked "Just try it. Then I can tell your brother that you ended up in Chloe's bed  _and_  mine." She laughed at Azrael's exasperated grumble and turned to leave. "Later, Fun Size."

Azrael looked after Maze, then moved to sit on the couch, picking up Trixie's stuffed monkey. "And I'm back on the couch," she murmured, with a wry smile. She let her eyes close and waited for her dough to rise, letting her mind drift back to Sumer, the sun glinting on the river, and a certain set of shoulders.


	8. What You Do for Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer tracks down Azrael to ask her about her night with Chloe, among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back, Lzod asked for Azrael and Lucifer to play piano together at the music school - here you go!

After two hours of texting his sister resulted in no response, Lucifer made his way to the Detective's apartment, the last place he knew Azrael had been. That netted him one request from the offspring that he  _please_  convince Azrael to dye her wings pink (hardly, he told her, though he would consider red, a compromise that Beatrice accepted), one cinnamon roll (pleasantly warm after the Detective reheated it for him), several pointed comments (his) about the Detective's choice of sleeping companions, and several eye rolls (hers) re: said comments, but no sister. Azrael, Chloe reported, had left some time earlier, and hadn't said where she was going.

Maze was no help, as she was still asleep, and why should Lucifer bother waking her when he was perfectly capable, all on his own, of rounding up one wayward sibling?

So Lucifer considered the gray feather. He knew what would happen if his demon knew how often he took it out, how often he used it to reassure himself that his sister was near. Maze would raise that slashed eyebrow, smirk at him, and tell him that he was being ridiculous.

Maybe he was. Maybe he should put it away, leave it, get rid of it. He knew he wouldn't, though, not since he'd heard that Michael had almost taken Azrael back to the Silver City. She would have disappeared and Lucifer wouldn't have known. So he checked her feather. Each time it allowed him to sense her presence, he relaxed a little, safe in the knowledge that Azrael was still there.

She usually went to the same places; most were familiar to him, but there was one new place, her present location. She went to this place most days, for hours at a time, and Lucifer had to admit that he was curious. Well, that and the whole text-ignoring thing, behavior that was clearly unacceptable, especially when Lucifer had certain questions he wished to ask her.

Lucifer tucked the feather against his wrist, then started the car and drove, one hand drumming a syncopated rhythm on the steering wheel. He allowed himself to be pulled closer and closer until he found himself in a parking space outside the door to a music school.

Azrael, he knew, likely would have considered the available parking space to be a sign from their father. Lucifer knew better, though he smiled at his luck as he got out of the car and contemplated the building before him.

A music school? Surely Azrael wasn't taking lessons. He tucked the feather farther into his sleeve and pushed open the door. The interior was small and a little run-down - cozy, some might call it - but the music coming from the last door but one drew him as well as the feather could.

He made his way down the hall and eased open the door, pausing in the doorway to watch her play. Believing she was unobserved, Azrael threw herself into the music, her fingers all but dancing on the keys, her body relaxed in a way he didn't often see.

Azrael reached the end of the piece and exhaled a soft sigh, letting her hands rest on the keys for a moment longer. From where he stood, he could just see the edge of her smile.

"So this is where you're hiding."

Azrael turned sharply, her expression a little wary. "How did you find me? Nobody knows I come here."

"Your feather," Lucifer admitted. He saw that subtle tension in her frame and regretted that he was the one to put it there. He was reminded, with startling clarity, of a particular day in the Silver City, another day she'd been hiding. She'd had that same tension in her body that day, even as a small child, though he'd been able to dispel it. That time, at least, it hadn't been his fault, and he'd been able to help distract her.

* * *

Lucifer didn't bother calling for Azrael. She'd come this way, Amenadiel had said, fleeing another of their parents' fights. The Heavens still rang with the echoes of the argument.

Azrael was upset, Amenadiel had said; Lucifer, glad of the excuse to leave before his parents made their presence known, went off in search of his smallest sister.

Scanning the sky, Lucifer took to the air. She wouldn't be on the ground, of course; she rarely was, these days, and had a number of aerial bolt-holes. He knew some of them - had even shown her some, with his superior knowledge of Places to Hide in the Silver City - but he was sure she had discovered more. The Silver City was ever-changing, after all.

He flew as silently as possible, and before long he heard her, high in the branches of a giant tree far from the center of the Silver City.

So. Not a new hidey-hole, but one where they'd gone together in the past. That was promising; maybe she hoped that he would find her.

"Come on out," Lucifer called. "It's just me."

Azrael emerged in a flurry of wings and leaves and suppressed tears, and Lucifer, fighting a smile, pulled a few twigs from her dark curls.

"Was he yelling at you?" Azrael asked, hovering woefully before him.

"No," Lucifer reassured. "Not yet, at least," he added, with a roguish grin. "Give him time. He usually finds something."

Azrael didn't smile. "Stay away from him," she urged, allowing Lucifer to lead her in a lazy spiral to the ground. "He's already mad."

"Fine," Lucifer said gently, smiling as his sister relaxed, just a little. "I'll keep my distance from him, word of honor. What would you like to do instead?"

"Fly?" Azrael suggested hopefully, and Lucifer felt a small pang of remorse. He'd been consumed with his own thoughts lately, and had had little time for his small sister. He would do better.

"Fly," Lucifer echoed, as if in consideration. He added, as if he didn't know this was exactly what she intended, "What, like a race?"

Azrael nodded, her expression lightening. "Can we go swoop down on Amenadiel?"

Lucifer tutted, hiding a smile. "You know he doesn't like it when you do that." Azrael nodded, her wings drooping a little, and Lucifer added, his tone contemplative, "So we should do it at  _least_  twice, don't you think?"

"Now?" Azrael asked, her voice eager, her body already coiling in preparation. When her brother nodded indulgently, she called, "Three-two-one-GO!" and was off like a shot before he had collected himself, arrowing through the sky.

"Cheater," Lucifer called after her, laughing, though he caught up to her with little effort. He had the wingspan and the size advantage for that, though he suspected that wouldn't last long.

While the wind of their flight made conversation impossible, Azrael soon deftly maneuvered closer to him and, just for a moment, a small hand squeezed his as their wings moved in parallel.

Then, of course, Azrael broke away, eager for the aerial acrobatics she loved.

Theirs was a madcap flight that looped throughout the Silver City, drawing attention from all they passed. Azrael did her best to outfly him, using every trick in her arsenal, and he found that he wasn't entirely letting her win.

At one point, Uriel attempted to join in the fun, but he was soon left behind, eclipsed by both his older brother and his small sister.

Finally, they came upon Amenadiel and spent some time observing their oldest brother from high above.

"Still want to do this?" Lucifer queried, and Azrael nodded brightly. "Well, far be it for me to be the voice of reason." Grinning, he gestured below. "After you, little sister."

Azrael, fearless, threw herself at the ground, passing so close to Amenadiel that her trailing feathers all but brushed the top of his head before she angled away and then upward. Lucifer, following at a small distance, did not manage to get so near. Next time, he decided.

It took three times dive-bombing Amenadiel before their brother growled at them to leave him alone.

So they did it again.

* * *

"I didn't sleep with Chloe."

Lucifer, startled out of his reverie, was almost surprised by his sister's appearance, so strong had been the memory of her past self. While she was only slightly larger than the Azrael-that-was in his memory, her coloring now was a sharp contrast.

Azrael had, perhaps, misinterpreted the wistfulness in his expression, for she was watching him with wary amusement. "Really, what do you think happened, brother?"

"You did sleep with her," Lucifer thought to say. "I've got evidence," he added, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket.

Azrael made a face. "Mazikeen told me she sent you pictures. Okay, so I slept with Chloe, but I didn't...  _sleep_  with her."

"Of course you didn't," Lucifer agreed. "You look like a child. The Detective would never have sex with a child... or someone who looks like one. And, really, haven't you figured out by now that dear old Dad won't get annoyed at you just for  _saying_  'sex'?"

Azrael looked a little sheepish. "I wasn't intentionally not saying it," she said. "I just... didn't, that's all."

"You still didn't say it," Lucifer pointed out, amused by the omission.

"You know, you're right. I didn't," Azrael agreed, with a quick grin. "How bad are the pictures? Mazikeen wouldn't let me see."

"Look for yourself," Lucifer replied carelessly. "She posted them on her Wobble."

Azrael made an intriguing choking sound and grabbed for her bag.

"Oh, you do have your phone," Lucifer added, nettled. "I've been trying to reach you."

Azrael sounded distracted as she replied, "I was playing piano, and my phone was on silent. Sorry. Oh," she exhaled a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. "Does Chloe know these are... wait, what?"

Lucifer leaned in to see what was causing his sister's distress. "Oh, yes, the one of you cuddled up to that stuffed monkey. I put that one on my lock screen," he added, grinning wickedly as he held up his phone. "So I can see it over and over again."

Azrael groaned, but did not otherwise object. "She must have gotten up again after I fell asleep on the couch," she said, still staring at her phone. "Seriously," she added, scrolling back to the pictures of herself and Chloe, "Chloe is going to flip when she finds out about this."

"Well, we'll let her find out from Maze," Lucifer suggested, earning himself a rather judgmental look from his sister. "What? I  _am_  evil, after all."

"No, you're not," Azrael replied. "Ask Mazikeen to take them down, please?" she added hopefully, and there was enough of that small Azrael in her that Lucifer, with a sigh, nodded and fired off a text. He didn't exactly expect an affirmative response from his demon, but he could at least make the attempt.

Lucifer said, after a moment, joking, "I did think I'd be first, though."

Azrael shook her head as she regarded her brother. "It's not that you thought you'd beat me to it - and, seriously, Luci, it's not a contest, it's  _Chloe_. You just didn't even consider that I'd end up... sharing a bed with her."

Lucifer inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Maze said you wouldn't tell her how it happened."

"No," Azrael agreed. When Lucifer let the silence extend, the girl sighed. "I'm pretty sure it was just that Chloe felt sorry for me. That's all."

"Oh!" Lucifer brightened, then, seeing Azrael's raised eyebrows, modulated his tone to one of sympathy, pulling on a sober expression. "Ah, oh. Oh, no. Sorry for you, that's just too bad, really. Why was she sorry for you?"

Azrael made a wry face. "Nice save, brother. I told her about my blade, and Uri, and... well. I was feeling lonely, and I think she saw it." The girl smiled faintly. "I don't think any of the humans  _really_  gets, deep down, that I'm not a kid. It's this body. So she saw an unhappy kid and wanted to help. That's all it was, so you don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," Lucifer replied. At Azrael's soft, amused noise, he attempted a diversion, his sympathy genuine this time, "Are you all right now, though?"

Azrael nodded. "Coffee helped, and cinnamon rolls, and music."

"Speaking of, what are you even doing in this place? I mean, a music school, really?"

Azrael eyed him. "Are you checking on me?"

"Yes," Lucifer admitted. "And, really, if you wanted a piano, you could always have borrowed one of mine."

Azrael slid over, making room for her brother, and he sat next to her on the bench. "I know," she replied, looking over with a smile. "I sort of stumbled on this place a while back. It just felt right to keep coming." She shifted her hands on the keys and played a soft chord. "Why are you checking on me?" When he didn't answer, she played another chord, a little higher, prompting, "Luci?"

"I..." Lucifer frowned as his sister played another chord, this one in a minor key. "Stop that. I don't need a bloody soundtrack. You weren't answering my texts is all. And... never mind." He didn't feel inclined to tell her how often he checked on her, or why. Not just now.

The skepticism on his sister's face suggested a later reckoning, but she let the subject go for now. "It's not as fancy as your pianos, but the sound is nice," she observed, playing several chords in succession.

"It is," Lucifer agreed.

Azrael lifted her hands and gestured to the piano. "Give it a try," she suggested. "See how the other half lives - well, the part of the other half that can afford piano lessons but not multiple really expensive pianos."

"You're not actually taking lessons, are you?" Lucifer thought to ask, and Azrael shook her head, with a murmured negative. He played a few chords of his own, to get a feel for the instrument, then shifted seamlessly to a rollicking piece that made his sister smile, just as he'd intended.

Twisting in place on the piano bench, Azrael rummaged through the music and slid a piece onto the music rack. Lucifer stopped playing, leaning forward to investigate. "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, eh? Two hands, one piano. Interesting."

Azrael nodded, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "Think you're up to it?"

"You know classical isn't my jam," he began.

Azrael nodded, her lips curving. "So you can't handle it," she teased.

"You've been spending far too much time with Maze," Lucifer protested. "Here, let me have a look."

"We could take the tempo a little slower, if that would help," Azrael offered, all innocence, as Lucifer flipped through the score.

"Cheeky," Lucifer retorted, with a grin. He got to his feet and pulled off his jacket, then sat once more. "Right. Let's do this. Full tempo."

They managed remarkably well, particularly as Lucifer, at least, was sight-reading. Later he wondered if Azrael hadn't been practicing the piece, though the thought didn't occur to him at the time.

Really, it went as smoothly as if they both had been practicing, even the cross-hands parts. When they had finished, Azrael laughed for the sheer joy of it. "Oh, that was fun," she exulted, leaning lightly against her brother. "We should do that more often."

"Maybe with something challenging next time," Lucifer agreed, with a quick grin. He hesitated, still not wanting to bring it up, but this was likely the best time. "The Detective said something happened at a museum," he began, and Azrael pulled away from him, the movement subtle but still noticeable.

"I know I should have left the human alone," she replied, her gaze dropping to the keys before her. "But some of them take what Josh taught them and twist it, and I just... I got angry."

Lucifer nodded, watching his sister. "She said something happened to your eyes. She thought they turned black. And whatever you said to them scared off some pretty determined protestors."

"Black?" Azrael echoed blankly. "That hasn't happened since..."

"Since you got hold of your blade," Lucifer finished. "Maybe holding it started something." Azrael murmured a protest, but Lucifer continued, "Maybe if you touched it again -"

"No." It was a flat refusal. Azrael got up from the piano bench and retreated to the bookshelf, though the tiny room did not allow for much space between them.

"I don't have it with me," Lucifer reassured. He cajoled, "I know you're worried about how you couldn't let it go last time, but -"

"No," Azrael repeated, a little more loudly.

"We could bring Maze in on it, give her a tranquilizer gun or something. Blades are her thing, but I daresay she'd make an exception." Lucifer grinned amidst his planning. "Come to think of it, she'd probably enjoy shooting you."

"You're not listening to me!" The sound of Azrael's shout was very loud in the small room.

For a moment, everything froze. Lucifer turned his gaze on his sister and saw the fear in her eyes - brown, yes, they were still brown - and drew in a breath to speak.

The door burst open, and Lucifer looked over to see a tiny woman with pin-straight black hair. She was holding a cane, and while she looked old enough to need it for purposes of locomotion, her firm grip on it and the dark look in her eyes suggested that she was more than willing to use it on him, should the situation warrant it. "Everything all right in here?" Though her words were obviously directed to Azrael, she didn't turn her gaze from Lucifer.

"Everything's fine, Margaret," Azrael replied, though her voice held a quiver.

Lucifer got up from the piano bench, one hand extended toward his sister. "Rae -" he began.

The old woman - Margaret - stepped fully into the room and leveled the tip of the cane at Lucifer's chest. "Step into the hallway, please." While her tone was coolly polite, it also held an implied *or else*.

Lucifer turned to sister and she nodded, her expression tight.

"Right," Lucifer agreed. He pulled on his jacket, then stepped past Margaret and into the hallway; the door closed firmly in his face. "Well," he started to protest, but, hearing the muffled sounds of conversation on the other side of the door, instead leaned against the wall, one hand tucked carelessly into a pocket. He pulled out a cigarette and fidgeted with his lighter, but then put them both away.

After a few minutes, the door opened and the old woman ushered Azrael into the hall. "Your sister is very talented," she informed him.

"Yes," Lucifer agreed.

"And so are you." Margaret's face creased with an answering smile. "You play well together."

"Thank you."

"You're going to take your sister to get some lunch," Margaret instructed Lucifer. "And you're going to talk out whatever got her upset, and then you're going to indulge in a ridiculous dessert.

"This wasn't my idea," Azrael interjected, though not without a small smile. "Not that I'd mind, but this is all her."

"I could do with a nosh," Lucifer replied agreeably.

Margaret turned to Azrael and smiled fondly. "Come back later, if you like. I've found a piece I think you'll enjoy. Maybe," she added, her gaze flicking to Lucifer, "I'll start looking for duets."

Azrael smiled and nodded but didn't answer, turning to go down the hallway to the exit.

Lucifer, following, caught a flicker of his earlier memory and almost reached for his sister's hand.

* * *

In the end, they decided on an out-of-the-way diner, more for the ambience (there was none, which suited them) than for the food, which was, at least, plentiful. The diner did have a particularly impressive dessert case, which also factored into the decision.

Lucifer watched with guarded amusement as Azrael tucked into something involving turkey and gravy and squishy white bread.

"What?" she asked, seeing his gaze. "I'm planning on a food coma later, and this many carbs seem like a good start."

Lucifer started in on his own meal, which had significantly fewer carbs. "Yes, but - really, are there mashed potatoes, too? Do you not believe in vegetables?"

"No, I don't. Vegetables are a figment of our imaginations, clearly invented to torment the young and those who appear to be young." Azrael smiled, then added mildly, "Don't judge. I'm tired. Mazikeen yanked me out of bed early this morning to interrogate me. And I think she stole my knife. It wasn't where I left it last night."

"She may very well have, if she came across it unattended," Lucifer agreed. He considered Azrael's demeanor and said lightly, "Speaking of knives, little sister..."

Azrael sighed and put down her fork. "Okay. So my blade made my eyes go all scary and your solution is for me to hold it again. How is this a good idea?"

"No, don't stop eating," Lucifer protested. He waited until Azrael picked up her fork once more. "I think it did more than change your eyes. You were able to influence that protester."

"I was angry," Azrael admitted. "And if he saw my eyes, maybe he just got scared and decided it wasn't worth it."

"Scared of a little girl, however creepy her eyes?" Lucifer shook his head. "And you told Chloe to stay where she was, and she did."

"Hey, little girls can be scary," Azrael protested. "I mean, you're scared of Trixie. And Chloe wanted to keep Trixie away from the yelling people and their offensive signs," Azrael replied, poking at a bit of turkey with her fork. "You're reading too much into this."

"I am not scared of Beatrice," Lucifer protested. "Look, hear me out," he added. "What if you touch your blade and it somehow brings your powers back?"

Azrael regarded him steadily. "We don't know that would happen. And if I'm in this mortal body, I don't particularly  _want_  my powers back. I don't want to know... the things I would know, while I'm surrounded by humans."

"So that's a no to the experimentation?" Lucifer said.

Azrael shook her head. "I... no. Or, yes, it's a no. I... I don't want to start something that I can't control. And I don't want to go partway, when it comes to my powers. Aside from my wings, it really needs to be all or nothing." She paused a beat, then added, "Well, and I wouldn't say no to healing abilities, but -" She cut off her words as the server approached their table.

"Are you interested in dessert?" the server asked. "We have an assortment of cakes and pies, as you can see in the case. Our ice cream flavors are listed right on the board there, and our cook just finished making a new batch of pudding."

"Pudding, really? I'll have one of those," Lucifer said cheerfully, though he lifted his eyebrows as Azrael groaned, asking her, "Something wrong with pudding?"

Azrael shook her head, with a quick glance to the server. "It's not important. Can I please get the carrot cake? Carrots," she added virtuously to Lucifer as the server nodded and went to put in the order, "are vegetables."

"Doesn't count if they're in dessert."

Azrael shook her head. "Tell me that when you've eaten kale cake," she replied, making a face. "And, yes, that's a thing. I didn't want to try it; it was Ella's idea. I swear, the humans put kale in  _everything_."

Lucifer shuddered. "That sounds ghastly."

"It. Was."

The server brought the desserts and the check, with a cheerful, "Take your time. Obviously, we're not busy."

Azrael dug into her cake, giving Lucifer's pudding a wry look. They ate in silence for a few moments and she asked, "So why are you using my feather to check on me? It can't just be that you wanted to bug me about my sleeping habits."

Lucifer's smile was a little sad. He'd known she wouldn't let it go. "Only I don't want Michael taking you back to the Silver City without my knowing. So I check if you're still here, on occasion. That's all."

"Oh." It's was more an exhalation than an actual word. "Oh, Luci." Azrael reached across the table to rest her hand briefly on his. "Look, I won't leave without telling you, okay? I promise."

"Careful," Lucifer said lightly. "You know how dear old Dad gets when he wants something. Don't make me a promise you can't keep."

"I'm not," Azrael replied, with emphasis. "I'll make sure I can say goodbye."

Lucifer regarded his sister with some skepticism. "You're seriously going to tell Michael or whoever that you won't leave unless you can tell me goodbye?"

Azrael gave Lucifer a level look. "Yes," she said simply. One shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. "I don't think it's too much to ask."

"Oh," Lucifer replied, his brows furrowing. "Rae, you shouldn't -"

Azrael smiled. "I should, and I will."

Lucifer frowned, worried. "I just don't want you to go too far."

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "That's what you should do for family: you go too far." She paused, then amended, her lips curving a little, "I mean, not our family, of course, but good ones. I haven't been the best sister," she admitted, drawing a line in her cake crumbs with her fork. "But I can do better."

"Rae, you've been far better than the others," Lucifer protested.

Azrael gave Lucifer a long look. "Really, we can set the bar higher than that, can't we?"

"Well." Lucifer cleared his throat, his eyes softening. "Yes. I suppose we can."

Azrael smiled, and took up the check. "Good. I'll take care of this, and we can get going." She got to her feet, her hand resting on her brother's shoulder as she passed, then crossed to the register. After an animated discussion with the cashier, she made her way back to the table to leave a tip.

"Maze," Lucifer reported as he held open the diner door for his sister, "Texted to say that she'll take down the pictures if you tell me the story of what happened in Sumer."

Azrael sighed. "Of course she'd say that."

"What's the problem?" Lucifer queried, adding, "I love stories, especially naughty ones. Is it a naughty one?"

Azrael didn't answer, instead getting into the convertible and buckling her seat belt.

"Ooh, not telling," Lucifer teased. "That's promising. I'll just ask Maze, then..."

"No," Azrael protested, guessing that the demon would spin the story in the way that most amused herself and thus that most embarrassed Azrael. "I'll tell, but I don't think you'll like it. There's not much to it, really."

Lucifer's phone dinged as he started the car. After glancing at it, he said, "Maze says to ask you about shoulders. More of a leg man, myself, but I have been known to enjoy the occasional shoulder."

Azrael eyed him. "You make it sound like a buffet."

Lucifer's brows twitched upward as he grinned. "Well, sometimes biting can be involved, that's true. But don't try and distract me, now; Doctor Linda already taught me about distractions."

Azrael exhaled a quiet sigh, but couldn't quite keep back a smile. "Fine. It was a long time ago..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kale cake is indeed a thing, but I've never tasted it, so my apologies to kale cake fans if it's actually really good.


End file.
